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#and the world will only offer them pain either way
small-z24 · 1 day
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One-Shot: Shattered Prophecies
Summary: 
Y/N and Azriel are bound by a prophecy that foretells either salvation or destruction. Realizing they are the destined pair, they must make a heartbreaking sacrifice to end their love and save their world. A tragic tale of love and unchangeable fate.
Word Count: 862
Warnings: heartbreak 
The chill of the early winter night seeped into Y/N’s bones as she stood at the edge of the cliff, staring out at the vast, dark ocean below. The wind howled around her, carrying whispers of a prophecy she had long hoped would never come to pass.
"It couldn't be them. It wasn't them. The prophecy was so vague, it really could be anyone else."
Y/N repeated these words like a mantra, clinging to the slim hope that fate had made a mistake. But deep down, she knew the truth. The signs had been there all along, and she had ignored them, too afraid to face the inevitable.
Behind her, footsteps approached, crunching on the frost-laden ground. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The presence, the way her heart twisted with a mix of love and despair, told her everything.
"Y/N," Azriel's voice was a soft, broken whisper, filled with the same sorrow that gnawed at her heart. "You shouldn’t be out here. It’s freezing."
She didn’t respond, her eyes fixed on the horizon where the sky met the sea. Azriel stepped closer, his shadows wrapping around them both in a futile attempt to offer comfort.
"It’s true, isn’t it?" she finally spoke, her voice trembling. "The prophecy. It’s about us."
Azriel was silent for a moment, and then she felt his hand on her shoulder, a touch that was both reassuring and devastating. "Yes," he admitted, his voice heavy with regret. "It’s us."
The prophecy had been vague, an ancient riddle passed down through generations. It spoke of two souls bound by love, destined to bring either salvation or destruction. Y/N had always believed they could forge their own path, that love would conquer all. But now, the weight of their fate pressed down on her, crushing her hope.
"It’s not fair," she choked out, tears streaming down her face. "We never asked for this."
Azriel’s grip tightened on her shoulder, and she could feel his own anguish through the bond they shared. "I know, Y/N. But we can’t change what is written. We can only decide how we face it."
She turned to him then, her eyes searching his for answers, for a glimmer of hope. But all she saw was his own pain reflected back at her. "What are we supposed to do?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Azriel reached out, cupping her face in his hands. His touch was warm, but it did little to thaw the cold that had settled in her heart. "We have to stop it," he said, his voice firm despite the tears in his eyes. "We can’t let this prophecy come to pass."
Y/N’s heart shattered at his words, the finality of them. "But how? How can we stop something that’s already been set in motion?"
He closed his eyes, a single tear escaping and tracing a path down his cheek. "We have to end it, Y/N. We have to end us."
The words hung in the air, a death sentence pronounced on the love they had fought so hard to protect. Y/N felt her knees buckle, and Azriel caught her, holding her close as sobs wracked her body.
"No," she cried, clutching at him desperately. "There has to be another way. There has to be."
Azriel’s own tears fell freely now, mingling with hers. "I wish there was, love. I wish there was. But we can’t risk the prophecy coming true. We can’t risk destroying everything."
Y/N pulled back slightly, her hands gripping his arms as if he were the only thing keeping her grounded. "But I love you," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "I can’t lose you."
Azriel’s expression was one of pure agony. "I love you too, Y/N. More than anything. But sometimes, love means making the hardest choices."
He leaned in, pressing a gentle, heartbreaking kiss to her lips. It was a kiss filled with all the love, the dreams, the futures they would never have. When he pulled away, they were both trembling.
"We’ll find each other again," he whispered, his voice a promise and a farewell. "In another life, we’ll be together."
Y/N nodded, tears blurring her vision. "In another life."
With one last, lingering touch, Azriel stepped back, his shadows swirling around him. The distance between them felt like an abyss, one that could never be crossed.
As he turned and walked away, Y/N fell to her knees, her sobs echoing in the night. The prophecy had taken everything from them, leaving nothing but shattered dreams and broken hearts.
And as the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, Y/N knew that this was their end. There was no happy ending, no miracle to save them. Just the cold, hard truth of a prophecy that had sealed their fate long before they had ever met.
In the stillness of the morning, Y/N whispered to the wind, "It couldn’t be us. It wasn’t us. But it was."
And with that, the love story of Y/N and Azriel came to its tragic, heart-wrenching end.
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setaripendragon · 2 years
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Little Sallyanne
Hi, I'm back! Sorry for the long absence, but RL sucks, and I haven't been writing much of anything I'd be willing to share lately. Except it's now Camp NaNo, and I wrote this in a frenzy instead of working on my NaNo project, of fucking course XD It's a Peaky Blinders fanfic, because that seems to be my go-to comfort-fandom at the moment for some reason??? What if Tommy went looking for Polly's children sometime during the first season, and he found Sally-Anna-Sallyanne-whatever-her-name-is-does-anyone-know before she died? WARNING: It doesn't come up overly explicitly in the fic, but it is Very Important for you to know that Sally was a child when she was deported, and this little ficlet was, in large part, inspired by a couple of articles I read about the truly horrific circumstances deported children ended up in around that time. This Sally is a deeply traumatised thirteen-year-old survivor of both sexual and physical abuse. (And Tommy knows this, knows it was done to her by the people she was given to because the government deemed his Aunt 'not fit' to care for children, and he is half a world and a month of travel away from being able to exact revenge.) If that might upset you, this may not be the fic for you. Please proceed with caution, if you decide to proceed at all. (Also, jsyk, when writing Sally in this fic, I was picturing the actress who played Lyra in the His Dark Materials series, because I swear, she looks a bit like Ada (and also Polly was the voice of her dad's daemon).)
The train rattles and clacks its way along the tracks, and Sally resists the urge to hold her breath. She hadn’t believed it when the guy in the flat-cap loitering by the Home’s fence said he was there to take her home, and she still hadn’t believed it even when she was fleeing into the night on his heels with a fire blooming out of her bedroom window behind her, and she still hadn’t believed it when instead of turning out just like every other adult there he put her on a ferry back to England under a fake name. Now, here she is on a train back to Birmingham, after ten years of trying to get here, and she’s still not quite sure she believes it.
She turns her passport over in her fingers, and looks at the name above her picture again. Miss Salima Elizabeth Shelby, it says. That’s her mother’s maiden name, she knows. She remembers. Everything from before being fostered is fuzzy, but she’s clung to what she does remember fiercely, because mostly what she remembers is being loved. She remembers her mother, her dark hair and warm voice, and she remembers her brother, mostly how funny it was to put mud down the back of his shirt and make him yell, and she remembers her aunt, with her piercing eyes and her secretive smiles.
She’s desperately glad that whoever that guy was, he thought to use her mother’s maiden name for this, because she knows she can’t be Anna Gray anymore. Even though no one’s called her Anna Gray for ten years, it’s who she’s been in her heart. Anna Sarah Gray, her mother’s little Sallyanne, no matter how many other names she’s been given. None of them were her, were hers.
But Anna Sarah Gray was deported, and she’ll be deported again if anyone finds out she’s in England again. And she’ll die before she goes back there. She’ll kill anyone who tries to fucking send her back there. So, she needs a new name, and it was a kindness, a bewildering, unexpected kindness, for that name to be one that has pieces of her already in it. Sally Shelby is a name she can fit herself into, can make her own.
The train screeches a warning as it starts to break, and Sally looks up sharply. Outside the window, she can see the sign that reads ‘Birmingham’ outside, and she stares at it until the train drifts to a stop, and then she pinches herself. It hurts, so she’s not dreaming.
She’s not dreaming. This is real.
She hasn’t cried since she was five years old, but now she feels her eyes sting. Furious with herself, she knuckles at her eye and jerks to her feet, snatching up her case and bolting for the door, not caring who she elbows or kicks on her way. She’s been fighting for this moment for ten years, she’s not going to waste another fucking second dithering about having feelings when she could be getting one step closer to her real family.
“Oi!” someone shouts after her as she swings her suitcase into his knee to get them to move out of the train car’s door. “You little-!” they holler, but Sally’s already hopping down onto the platform, and looking around, getting her bearings and trying to remember where she needs to go.
A large hand grabs her arm, and something that’s kind of like panic, and kind of like rage lights her up inside until she can barely see straight, and she brings her suitcase around again but the guy is ready for it this time, and he blocks it with his arm. “Shit! You watch what you’re doing, girl, or-”
Sally bites him on the arm, since her suitcase isn’t working as a bludgeon anymore. The man yells in shock and pain, and a smack catches her in the side of her head, but she only digs her teeth in harder, until she can taste blood. He lets go of her arm, but his other hand grabs her hair, trying to shake her loose.
And then she’s being let go, because the guy that grabbed her has been slammed back into the train, his heels slipping on the edge of the platform, and there’s blood streaming down his face from a cut that goes right through one eye. The man that’s pinning him there raises a blood-stained cap in the hand that isn’t fisted in the other guy’s shirt, and slashes it across the other eye. Blood spills.
“You’re fucking lucky,” the guy with the murder cap in his hand snarls, “that I’m only taking your fucking eyes. If you ever touch her again, I’ll cut off your fucking cock and make you eat it before you bleed out. Am I making myself perfectly fucking clear?”
“Y-yessir,” the other guy whimpers.
Murder cap guy nods once, and releases him with a shove that sends the bleeding guy staggering down the platform and vanishing into the crowd within moments. Murder cap guy takes a breath, sets his fucking amazing cap back on his head, and only then turns to face Sally.
Oh. Those eyes are just like Aunt Marra’s. Sally remembers that piercing, unearthly blue. “Yeh alrigh’, Sally?” the man who has to be her cousin asks, as if there isn’t blood splattered all over his cap, and he didn’t just blind a man just for touching her.
“Can I have one?” Sally blurts out before she can think of anything smarter to say.
Her cousin, she’s not sure which one, the older ones all kind of just blurred together in her memory, looks taken-aback for a moment, before he smiles. It’s a crooked little thing, and more than a bit mean, but Sally doesn’t mind. “I think that can be arranged,” he agrees, tipping his bloody cap to her.
Sally grins, fierce and feral and eager.
“Do you remember me?” Her cousin asks as he tucks his hands into his pockets.
“You’re my cousin,” Sally says, because that much she does remember.
Her cousin tips his head in acknowledgement, but what he says is, “Half-brother,” with a nod towards her hand. She looks down, and sees her passport still clutched there, and remembers that she’s not Anna Gray anymore. She’s Sally Shelby.
“Right,” Sally agrees. “Half-brother. Mikey’s my cousin.”
“Tha’s right,” her new half-brother confirms, smiling that crooked smile again. “I’m Tommy.”
The name sparks a memory, and Sally brightens. “You used to play horses with me!” she exclaims, remembering being carted around on Tommy’s shoulders, and yanking on his hair to make him go whichever way she pleased.
Tommy’s crooked smile becomes a crooked grin. “That was me,” he confirms. He hesitates a moment, then holds out a hand to her. “Come on, the rest of the family’s waiting for us back at The Garrison.”
Sally thinks it would probably be safe to take his hand, but it doesn’t feel safe, so she doesn’t. She just hefts her suitcase and looks at Tommy expectantly, making it clear she’s ready to go without touching him. He nods to her, accepting her choice, and sticks his hand back in his pocket as he turns and heads for the exit. Sally hurries a little to catch up, then falls into step beside him.
“Aren’t you going to get in trouble or something?” Sally asks as the crowd parts to let them through.
“Not in this neighbourhood,” Tommy replies blithely. “Anyone ‘ere gives you any trouble, you just tell ‘em your name, you tell ‘em you’re a Shelby, and they’ll know better than to mess with you,” he promises. It’s a nice promise, and Sally almost believes it, after the way he said hello. She believes it more and more, as people keep giving them both a wide berth as they make for the street; him with his blood-stained cap, and her with blood on her teeth, side-by-side and ready to fight the world.
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mashpotatoe · 7 months
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im a white jew, i was born in israel,
ive lived there all my life and was brought up in an environment that fosters racism driven by nationalism, nationalism driven by racism.
in israel, they teach you jews and muslims (though usually, they just say arabs) have always been enemies, the same way the US deems the entire middle east as a inherent war zone, ridding them of the responsibility for perpetuating war in thst region.
they tell you "were the fair and humane side who strives for peace! its the arabs who never accept the offer!"
i remember the first time i began doubting that sentiment was in fourth grade, when we were having a discussion in class about the character of Saul from the Torah. the teacher was talking about how Saul, the first monarch of the Kingdom of Israel, used to fight the Philistines, and when she added that the Philistines were the natural enemy of the Israelites, she asked the class what group of people is their modern equivalent to which everyone very eagerly replied "Arabs!" and nevermind that there in that same class sat two arab boys, one of whom sat next to me, who i looked at and thought "but he isnt my enemy? hes just a boy in my class."
they teach you to hate arabs. sometimes they say it outright. sometimes they say it more carefully, or make a distinction between good and bad arabs, those who are with us and those who are against us.
in a state based on the idea of (white) jewish supremacy, they teach you jews are naturally superior. they use the conspiratorial narrative of "jews controlling the world" to their favor, giving their own watered down explanation for why antisemitism exists, saying that it must be driven by jealousy.
the zionist movement always used antisemitism to its advantage, either for reinforcing the notion of jewish supremacy or appealing to the real pain and trauma of generations, people who survived the holocaust, connecting them to stolen land where they are "guaranteed" safety ergo granting "justification" for the suffering of others.
its using peoples real pain that makes fear mongering so effective, and when the israeli population grows up being told all of their neighboring countries want to kill them, they quickly get defensive of the "only land where they can feel safe", but the only explanation ever provided for Why these neighboring countries are considered enemies is because theyre arabs.
and when it comes to palestine, it isnt even recognized as a country, nor identity. just a threat. ive talked to many people who are genuinely unaware of the occupation, and they arent willing to believe it either, because the media narrative has successfully shifted the blame on hamas. because "how could it be us? we want peace! its the terrorists who make us look bad! and their children, they grow up to be antisemites*, might as well get rid of them too!" they never stop to think what environment these children must grow up in to develop these "radical" ideas.
* what they mean by antisemite is really just antizionist, but the term anti/zionist isnt practiced in local dialect, being a zionist is treated as a given
any jew who stands against israels oppression is dubbed a self hating jew, but the biggest contributors to antisemitism is the people in charge of an ethnostate, because at any moment they could decide who is not white enough to be jewish, who is too jewish to be white, who stood against the current coalition government and who is an obedient dog.
israelis arent a monolith, but many of them have been won over, convinced its an "us v them" situation, when in reality it could never be the "us" that "loses"
the israeli government was waiting for an event like the massacre on the seventh of october to declare war, to have the so called "right to defend itself", so they could initiate the final steps of an ethnic genocide and displace, if not kill, all remaining palestinians. under the guise of bringing peace.
it isnt too late to call for a permanent ceasefire, to end the occupation.
please contact your representatives, attend protests and rallies if you are able. palestine will be free, and the flowers will rise again.
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cryptotheism · 10 months
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Tell us about the wellness to fash pipeline tho
Here's a recent piece from the guardian on wellness communities and Qanon, so don't take my word for it.
"Wellness" is not just alternative medicine, it is essentially a theory of the body which posits if something makes you feel better, you are better in some meaningful way. I would argue it one of the most commonly held nonreligious magical beliefs in the modern world.
Wellness as a concept has its genesis in the 1950s with "workplace wellness" programs, a sort of budget alternative to offering employee healthcare benefits. This was an era soaked in itinerant business preachers offering classes on things like "hypnosis at a management level" and "yoga to improve leadership abilities". I am exaggerating for effect, but not by much.
The capitalist medical system regularly abandons people. We've all heard stories of profit driven pharmaceudical companies holding the ill hostage for extreme markup on life-saving medicines. People have real, legitimate, reasons to mistrust medical professionals.
Let's say you have chronic pain, and everything your doctor offers you is either ineffective, expensive, or addictive. You are desperate for literally any release, so you start looking into other solutions. You will find an OCEAN of snake-oil salesmen willing to sell you "the secrets doctors don't want you to know."
What is frustrating, is that pain is actually partially psychological. Some wellness techniques may have an actual, medical, benefit on some patients. The worst thing a conspiracy theorist can have is a point. So now you actually do kinda feel better, and you have a sense of loyalty to the grifter selling you 300$ Sumerian Cock Oil Pills. These people are the core of the wellness industry. They are the examples that everyone else points to and says "Well it worked for them!"
Reactionary thought blooms in environments like this. If the medical industry can't be trusted, what else can't be trusted? At any given time, you are two clicks away from "vaccines cause autism." Three clicks away from "Cavemen were 15 feet tall because they only ate meat." And four clicks away from "The medical industry is controlled by The Jews to drain our wallets and keep us sick." Echoes of Nazi attitudes towards German-Jewish doctors are a common backbeat.
Wellness itself is relatively harmless, (compared to the things it is adjacent to) but it acts as a sort of idealogical airport that exposes the curious to a deluge of potentially radicalizing communities. The longer you spend in communities like this, the higher the chance you'll come across something that meshes perfectly with your own biases.
If y'all wanna learn more about wellness and pseudomedicine grifters, I highly recommend the podcast Maintenance Phase.
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emittthehuman · 1 year
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Thinking about the way Gwen, how she is just a kid like Miles.
Her only father and family member she had left pointed a gun right at her, actively chose his job over his own daughter after she revealed she was spider woman.
Gwen was distraught, her whole world was collapsing. And then two spider people, people like HER, showed up. Adults who seemed like they understood what she was going through, offered her an escape from her problems. To abandon Gwen Stacy, to hide behind the mask where pain can’t get to her.
So she goes with them.
But things aren’t what they seem. The adults are falling apart here too, Miguel blows up at every small inconvenience. He’s extremely hard on Gwen- of course he would be. He can’t get attached to another little kid, not after what happened last time.
And Jessica Drew? A bit more lenient, maybe like the mom she never knew. But she’s not her mom. She pushed for her to be there, but she won’t protect her either.
Gwen learns her father will die.
She learns that Miles was an anomaly, too dangerous to interact with. She’s not even allowed to see him.
She falls on others, Hobie and Pavitr are good people who care about her well being.
But she just misses Miles. He understood her, what they’ve lost.
And when a mission comes up from his universe? Of course she snatches up the chance to see him again without angering the only parental figures she has now.
She tried to protect him in the only way that seemed to work, hiding the truth.
But he’s so much more hopeful than she is. He is kind, he’s strong and he knows what it means to be spider man, in spite of everything.
And she has to watch him learn the truth, watch the new parental figures quickly turn against them both.
People who Gwen thought understood, send her back to her own universe by force.
Gwen is 16.
Imagine being a 16 year old girl, going though all of this.
Miles literally makes earthquakes in her life, changes entire trajectories just by existing. He saves her dad, just by proxy.
God. It is so painful to look at these kids. These poor, sweet kids.
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drdemonprince · 26 days
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potentially triggering but ultimately harm reductionist statement about how people treat those with suicide ideation below, just a warning!
it's pretty fuckin rich that people tell suicidal people that they're "being selfish" by wanting to die, because it could not be more selfish to expect someone to just continue suffering through a life they do not want simply because their death would make them sad.
the people who say that kind of thing never want to offer any genuine help to the suicidal person that will change their life circumstances in a lasting way. they never want to house them, get them medical care, pay off their debts, introduce them to new friends, nurse them through a years-long trauma recovery process, get them a pet, drive them to a support group every week, buy them their groceries, clean their house, listen to them talk about their tough feelings for the millionth time.
lasting healing within a dramatically different and better life is never what they want for the suicidal person. they just want the person to not do anything that would make them sad. and not look too sad when they are around them, either, because even if they do white-knuckle their way through a painful existence, they are expected to also make it look easy.
but it's funny, isn't it, that by pushing away all thoughts of sadness, all thoughts of suicide, the person who says such a dismissive thing to the suicidal person is revealing how much they are on the brink of despair themselves. if, when faced with a suicidal person, your number one goal is to prevent their suicide for the sake of your own emotions rather than to improve circumstances for the suicidal person themselves, well, your own emotional grip on reality must be quite tenuous indeed. if you think the most important emotionally reality about a suicide is how it impacts you and not the person that has done it, well, you really must think that it's normal to expect other people to just constantly silently suffer for one another.
there's almost a bit of sick envy that i sometimes hear when people claim that they suicidal are "selfish." the statement almost seems to betray that everybody thinks of suicide at one point or another, that everyone has been in enough pain before that they've wished for it to end, but that since they have endured, they expect everyone else to endure the same for them, so that they don't slip into despair again as well.
it's so offensive because it is such a deeply missed opportunity. instead of batting away the statements of a suicidal person as if they were the greatest, most evil taboo, a person could really sit with them in their despair and say hey, I have felt that way too.
If only we lived in a world where acknowledgement of suicide ideation was not so taboo. Even psychologists and psychiatrists treat it as this untouchable thing, they freak out and jump into action and rob you of your body autonomy if you are willing to voice that you have thought of it. but virtually everyone has thought of it at one point or another, and some live with thoughts of it all the time forever but still have basically decent lives that they experience as worthwhile.
the legal apparatus that exists to prevent suicides at all costs have made it too risky for any kind of healthcare professional to allow the frank acknowledgement of suicide ideation to happen. hell, even the protections that have evolved online to supposedly "protect" suicidal people by filtering out content about suicide and redirecting those browsing for information about it to suicide prevention resourcse has, counterproductively, served to make the state of suicidality even more unspeakable. it cannot be spoken about, cannot be posted about, cannot be acknowledged, is not permitted, is never allowed to just be.
and that harms suicidal people so much.
we are so deeply selfish and cowardly in how we approach suicide and suicidal people.
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krypticcafe · 1 year
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Reader/ Y/n coming back to base covered in blood and tortured while 141 + Alejandro had no idea where reader was since they left in the morning.
Reader is "the little sibling/adopted child that we must protect all cause" to the boys
Love your writing so much ❤️
As Long as I'm Here
rating: mature
pairing(s): platonic gn!reader x 141 + alejandro
warning(s): canon-typical violence, language, drugs and drugging, torture, blood, military inaccuracies, no use of y/n, no beta read
a/n: Hope you don't mind that I decided to put this all in one long fic, kinda struggled with the writing direction with this since I had to rewrite it multiple times and I had to cut it short so I'll probably make a part two?
synopsis: it's going to take a lot more than simple torture to keep you from going back to the 141.
Part Two is now up!
"I'll be back before they know it."
Those were the last words you thought to yourself before you hopped off the helicopter. You and a team of other capable members of SpecGru and the Los Vaqueros had left before the crack of dawn for a joint operation and anticipated coming back by the afternoon if things went smoothly. And of course, they didn't.
No, you couldn't be afforded such a luxury as seen by how you were overwhelmed in battle. You wish you could've said you did your best, but god dammit you should've checked before entering that building, thinking you could lure the enemy away from the rest of your team. Compared to the hours you spent strapped to a chair with nothing but fluorescent light and a buzzing in your ears to compliment the throbbing pain in your head, you started to prefer the option of joining the rest of your teammates becoming target practice instead.
It didn't help either that the people who caught you were sick bastards. You could deal with the punches, a kick to the crotch, the hair pulling, cigar smoke, the blades, and having your body slammed around the place. It was nothing compared to practice with the 141 and prior missions you had with them. But when the metal cart of syringes came out, you knew you were beyond fucked, even when you had a swollen eye, a busted lip, broken ribs, open cuts, and burns. They took it a step further and injected experimental drugs you were supposed to investigate, homemade concoctions as they lovingly called them.
By pure shitty luck, you only escaped because one of them was stupid enough to clean up after offering you a glass of water when you woke up after passing out, dropping and shattering it in front of you, and not bothering to clean up. When your guard left to go take a piss break, you threw yourself to the floor and tried to squirm your way to the glass, using a shard to cut through your ropes. Once your guard came back, you pretended to still be bounded to your seat, coaxing him to come closer as if you wanted to confess something, and slit his throat. From there, it was easy now that you had a gun.
Or at least it was supposed to be. Maybe it was the heat of the moment or the adrenaline of finally being able to move, but the drugs hadn't fully kicked in until now. Your whole world seemed to sway, or maybe it was just you. You couldn't tell, all that mattered was that you could fight. Based on the layout of the building you were in, you were still in the same area as you were before. It took more bullets than you would've liked to admit to take down the guards that were in your way, but how was it your fault when the only two thoughts in your head were 'Where the fuck is my stuff' and 'God I'm gonna puke'.
Whoever kidnapped you really didn't think things through. Security was tight on the second floor but the bottom floor just had a single guy in the kitchen messing with a bag of crackers. You aimed your gun at him and click!
Click!
Clickclickclick!
Shit.
Well that caught his attention. You ducked down right when he reached for his gun, tossing your empty one to the side now that you'd be doing this the hard way. Waiting with bated breath, you took your window of opportunity, lunging when he had to reload. You took him by such surprise that he fumbled to put in another magazine and that allowed you to knock the weapon from his hands and tackle him to the ground. The both of you struggled on the hardwood floors for what felt like hours, but it was only a minute at most. Even in your feverish, dizzy, survival-instincts-only state, you overpowered him and stabbed him with his own knife.
Towering over the body, you gasped for breath, feeling your lungs struggling to expand and contract if you didn't force yourself to focus on the task. Great, now you're sweaty, weak, bloody, and out of breath. Based on how your hands started trembling, your symptoms were getting worse. Pacing around the area, you found your bag on a couch and fished around for the radio, yelling out your callsign before the rest of them would discover why their friends were suddenly so silent over comms.
"Sending coordinates, get a chopper over to exfil ASAP. And a damn medic."
The 141 were back from their own mission when they had heard the news of your distress call. Ghost was on the verge of strangling one of men that was on the team with you if they didn't add the fact that you made a reckless move for the sake of the team. Ghost could agree that it was something that only you would do despite his constant arguing with you and his protectiveness over you. He'd keep an eye out for you from the shadows both on base and in the field, be the one to challenge you to push your limits during your sparring matches, make sure you were well-trained so you could protect yourself. And yet you would instead protect the 141's asses countless times.
Ghost was brooding in the helicopter, well, more like sulking after a mission with you and Soap. During the crossfire, he wasn't able to keep an eye out for his flank and see the grenade flying for him. In a desperate move, you shoved him out of the blast range with all your strength, landing you with a couple burns and injuries, but nothing fatal. You knew he was going to get moody afterwards, giving a knowing glance to Soap before turning back to Ghost and nudging his leg with your boot.
"Hey, L.T, you were in the British S.A.S, right?"
"..."
"Just answer the question! C'mon Ghost, for me? Pleaaaase?"
"Affirmative."
"So back then, if you were to get bathroom duty, would they call you a Loo-tenant?"
"... negative. Was promoted after joining the 141." He turned his head away, and despite his blunt, by-the-book response, you knew he was smirking under that mask of his, especially with how Johnny and you were both snickering your asses off.
"Ghost?"
Simon snapped out of his thoughts and looked back at Soap, visibly concerned for the masked man but reading him all at the same time. Years of working together helped Soap get over the boundary of Ghost's silence and stoicism, and Ghost wasn't the only one looking out for you after all.
"You alright, L.T?"
"Solid, just need a talk with Price."
"I know what you're thinkin', and as much as I'd love to shove it to the bastards, they're going to need us when they come back. Price will come up with something, we just hafta wait 'til then." For once, Soap was the voice of reason and Ghost couldn't argue with his point.
"He's right, you know." Price stood a few feet away from the two in the hall, "Kid's capable of themselves but they're going to need a shoulder to lean on when they get here. Maybe a couple stitches, too."
Price hoped it was only going to be a few stitches. Though he knew it probably wasn't the case. Alongside Roach and Gaz, he had trained you for these situations, ensuring it would never happen and it never did thanks to his mentorship. He saw you as one of his own and ensured that you'd be able to fight tooth and nail so that it would never end up like this. But now that it has, he could only wonder what could've been done to you for you to get captured.
He didn't want to wonder.
"Bloody hell, what did they do to you?" Gaz muttered, watching as you stepped down the ramp with a soldier aiding at your side. There was an attempt to bandage you up on the way, though it only seemed to be temporary since your bandages were already stained with blood and some of it oozed out. Even the bandages around your head didn't stop the crimson liquid from spilling down the side of your face. The soldier passed you to Gaz, immediately urging that your injuries be tended to.
"Something's wrong, look." Roach helped support your other side to allow Gaz to examine you.
With a closer look, Gaz found that your pupils were disturbingly dilated, eyes glazed over in a way that made you almost look dead. You were muttering and mumbling nonsense under your breath, something about the mission and wanting to go home.
Gaz swallowed an anxious breath and nodded, "We'll get you home soon, buddy. Roach, help me take off their gear."
As soon as the other man began unclipping your vest from your body, it seemed something had pulled a trigger in you.
"No... no you're not- don't fucking touch me-!" You slurred, weakly tearing yourself from the hands of your friends. It surprised Gaz that you had the energy to punch his chest with that much force, but it broke his heart all at the same time. Roach guessed that you were so out of it that you could barely comprehend your surroundings, hell, you probably thought you were still in captivity. It hurt to imagine your perspective, and how vulnerable you felt, thinking they were your enemies.
"What's going on here?" Price's voice rose over all the noise as people tried to calm you down, Soap and Ghost following behind him along with Alejandro, who joined them with no hesitance after hearing what happened.
Roach approached them, "I don't know, the Sergent just came back like this, like they're in some kind of haze."
"They're drugged, at least, I think. I took a look at them and they don't even look like they recognize us," Gaz struggled to keep you from falling but you were insistent on getting away from him, from everyone. Thankfully, Ghost had come up from behind you without being noticed and locked you in a hold. You tried to flail even more, but with your weakened state and Ghost's strength, all you could do was yell with sloppy words for him to let go of you. It hurt them all to hear you yowl and yelp like an animal in pain, but they knew that you'd only hurt yourself more if Ghost didn't keep you like this. He forced himself to ignore your cries and clenched his jaw, focusing on keeping his temper and how he was going to let it out when given a chance.
"Steamin' Jesus, Price, I thought this was a cartel recon mission?" Soap seethed at the thought of what might've happened. Torture was one thing, but it was this whole new level of "fucked-up" that had him wanting to snap and tear at the throats of your tormentors.
"It was," Alejandro spoke up, "There was talk of a new drug on the market, released even though it was 'incomplete'. Nobody know that it was more dangerous than it was supposed to be, nobody outside of them." The words left a sour taste in his mouth. Cartels being reckless was nothing new to him, it was something he had seen time and time again. But it was the lack of awareness, the blatant disregard for safety and society, and how they betrayed their own people that made him livid. As a leader, he emphasized his loyalty and dedication to his soldiers, which was why he considered those who worked for and with him to be friends or even family, like you. So to him, if someone had messed with you, they were messing with him and his army as well.
Price glanced in the direction of you and Ghost for a moment, watching you finally begin to calm down from tiring yourself out. His gaze softened after you finally went limp, but still breathing, and he felt a pang of disappointment in himself for the briefest of moments. Maybe if he had known you'd leave so early in the day, he could've better prepared you. Maybe he should've assigned one of the others to join you so you wouldn't be in this predicament. But he didn't know. He didn't expect things would go this far south. None of them did.
"We'll finish the job first and then," Price took one last look as you were taken away on a stretcher, unconscious but writhing with a pained expression.
"We give them hell."
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bluerosefox · 7 months
Text
Taking a Chance
I want more TaliaxDanny stuff so how about this AU. Its mostly HEAVILY hinted though.
[Side note: Danny is in his 20s, maybe mid 20s btw, also enjoy my actual writing style, haven't done this in a while besides some small snippets I write]
Talia discovers the future plans Ra's has for her baby, her heir, her child. She is hurt and enraged because "How dare he! How dare he raise my son to be a sacrificial lamb just to extend his own life!" And the fact he had no plans to truly step down from being the Demon Head. (Basically the timeline where Ra's planned to overtake Damain's body)
-x-x-
Talia stared, her green eyes almost glowing toward the sleeping form of her son on her bed. Her eyes roamed his tiny face, the way he lightly dozed the day away unknowingly of the danger that had set in stone for him. Yes, being not just her son but the son of the Bat and the grandson of the Demon Head he was always going to be in danger but never had she really thought the danger would come from the very person who just declared him his heir. At least not in the way its been presented.
Talia had just discovered the fate her father, Ra's al Ghul, the same man that had held Damian not even a day ago and spoke of the future he could see Damian bring to the League once he was of age and would lead it, had actually planned for her son.
He planned on using her son, raising him to be the perfect heir.... to... to...
Use him as a vessel in the end.
He planned to leave his old decaying body, a body that was beginning to no longer respond to the Lazarus Pits as of late, and basically jump ship to a younger and better body...
The body of her son. The son she created and craved to have and raise. The son she made with her beloved's blood running in his veins.
Despite how enraged she is' Talia knows she can't confront her father. He would kill her... no he would torture her by hurting her baby to the point death would be a mercy if she tried. She also knows she can't go running to Bruce, she had burned the bridge to him ages ago when she refused to leave her father and his teachings and knows he would rip Damian away from her should she tell him what she did. He would, under the guise of protecting their child gain sole custody from Talia, set up next to nothing visitation rights for her to follow. He would say it would be to protect Damian from Ra's but Talia knows Bruce, knows he would use it as a half-excuse just to keep her away... but Talia wants to be in her child's life. Wants to raise him. Wants to be his mother, despite knowing next to nothing on how to be an actual normal mother, she wanted to try. She needed to try.
Running away was also out of the question, especially since Damian had been declared her father 'heir'. He would hunt them down and there was no where in this world she could hide that her father could not find them...
And-
Talia barely gives any warning when she flings the knife behind her. She waited for only a second, either to hear the ting of metal being blocked or the sound of it burying itself onto the wooden door she knew was in its pathway.
Instead she heard neither of those things and instead heard the ticking of a grandfather clock and a deep chuckle.
"As expected from the daughter of the Demon. Sharp and deadly with no hesitation in sight."
"Who are you." It was not a question but a demand. She slowly turned her head and was meet with an odd sight that even the daughter of the Demon has never seen before.
"At most.. an ally to have. At worst, merely a passing stranger with an offer."
The ticking never stopped.
Everything else outside the room though did.
-x-x-
Danny stared, his currently green eyes burning even more brightly than they normally do. Many emotions passed through them, anger, frustration, pain, sadness, regret, heartbreak, and hopelessness to name a few.
He stared at the tiny sleeping face within the healing pod in front of him and closed his eyes as memories of spending time with the one sleeping filled his mind.
"My King." A voice began, Danny's sharp pointed ears twitch for a moment and he turned his head slightly but it was all the speaker needed to know that they had his attention even if he didn't give them his full attention.
"I bring the updated reports from Chief Frostbite you requested." The young yeti ghost said, this had Danny finally turning around and looking upwards and towards the young yeti, who was smaller than Frostbite but none the less bigger than Danny. Danny held his hand out and took the stack of papers in their hands.
Once the papers were in his hands he gave a curt wave of his fingers as if to say 'go on' without actually saying the words and turned his attention to the words on the papers. The young yeti, Icewinds took the signal and began.
"Princess Danielle's core has remained the same since the last check up. No major sign of deteriorating or destabilizing... However that also means there have been no signs of improvement or healing as well..." Icewinds stopped for a moment, allowing their King to register the words being spoken "We will continue to monitor her as best as we can but... My King..."
Icewinds took a deep breath and delivered the news everyone already knew "Without a female donor to complete her Ecto-DNA, should the Princess suffers from another Fading even a minor one, I fear it might be too much for her core and with her current body form it will not be able to withstand the stress... I'm truly sorry My King."
The room fell silent, the only real sounds being the monitors in the room and sound of rustling papers in Danny's hands, who was staring blankly at the words written on them but not really taking them in.
After a moment, Icewinds shifting uncomfortably for a second, Danny spoke his voice raw but strong and firm "I understand. Please inform Frostbite I am... grateful for his, yours, and everyone's continued support and everything everyone's has done to help her... If you do not mind Icewinds, I would... Like to be alone for a while and think... For a moment."
"O-Of course My King." And with that Icewinds left the room, Danny barely taking not of the door closing and his enhanced hearing picking up the hushed soft words being spoken to the Knights that stood outside the room of Danny's request of being left alone for a while.
Once the talking outside the room faded, Danny tilted his body and head back on the chair he had been sitting in for the last few days and allowed the papers he had his hands to fall out and onto the floor. Danny took in a shaky breath and closed his burning eyes as he tried to keep his core emotions in control, knowing if he lost control the Realms would echo him and would panic or worry his people.
And he couldn't deal with that. Not now.
"Clockwork, whatever timeline you are trying to set in motion, I hope it pans out soon." Danny rasped out as he tried his best to keep himself from falling apart. Losing Danielle, losing the girl that was his clone, his mirror, but also was like a sister... daughter sometimes would break him, harshly and deeply.
He knew his advisor and resident Timekeeper had something in the works, the way the aging spirit had looked at him before he left was telling when the news of Danielle's suffering from another Fading attack and Frostbite having to perform a Core Transform nearly last second, which in turn turned her into a baby from how close she was to fully Fading, had been delivered to Danny and the others.
But despite knowing Clockwork had a plan, Danny knew that smile he had before he had left. It had been Clockwork's 'Have hope, but even I am unsure.' smile, a rare one the Timekeeper would wear when even he didn't know which way the pendulum of chance would swing first.
So he did the only thing he could do for now, and that was to remain in the room with Danielle, keep her stabilized as best as he could with his own ectoplasim flowing, and wait to see if whatever Clockwork had planned would work out.
Waiting, even with all he's done in his life from becoming a Halfa, to defending his home and haunt, from fighting off insane Fruitloops to dismantling government bigots until there was nothing left of them, all the way to fighting a tyrannicidal Ghost King to the point Danny had won the crown by Trail by Combat thus taking up the mantle of Ghost King of the Infinite Realms since his seventeenth birthday and bringing the Infinite Realms into a new age of healing the broken crumbling lands and ruling over all justly but firmly, waiting was all he could do for Danielle.
And the waiting. The stress. Was agonizing.
Because what they needed was...
Was a miracle if Danny was to be honest. They needed a female, a donor in all sense of the words, to complete Danielle's incomplete Ecto-DNA, because of course that damned Fruitloop tried skipping steps in creating a clone of Danny and it was no wonder he had failed so many times with only Danielle the most stable of them all and given the fact she still wasn't was damning, but they couldn't just have any female donate their DNA to her.
No the DNA needed the donor to at least be limenal, thus turning the DNA into Ecto-DNA because Danielle was created to be a halfa... The only problem was that the person in question needed to be Jazz level of limenal Ecto-DNA as well.
Meaning that despite both Sam and Val offering their Ecto-DNA from the years of being exposed to the Realms and Ectoplasim theirs wasn't enough to work with Danielle's. Jazz's Ecto-DNA was off the table seeing as she was his sister and mixing it with Danielle's would just lead to problems.
No they needed someone who was born near or in ectoplasm, breathed it, ate or at least filtered it, grew with it for years like Jazz and Danny did, basically the person in question just needed one odd day of dying and returning to life at the same time to becoming a halfa levels of limenal. Only those high levels could complete and combined with Danielle's.
Which given the fact only Jazz had those levels, finding someone near those levels was like looking for needle in space, because forget the haystack.
"....You've returned." Was the only words Danny said when his ears caught the sound of a ticking clock suddenly in the room, his anxiety raising as both dread and a tiny slimmer of hope both slowly climb up in his emotions, knowing whatever answer Clockwork would give him would outweigh the other.
"On time, as always My King." His cryptic Timekeeper responded "I bring... a chance."
Those words were enough to snap Danny out of his chair, he quickly looked towards where Clockwork's voice had been coming from and floated. His eyes burning with determination for a moment before he caught sight of movement behind Clockwork.
Behind the ever changing being stood a breathtaking woman. Tall and proud from the way she held herself, she looked a few years older than him but Danny could sense she was far older her soul not really matching her body. She was lovely to look at no doubt but deadly, very deadly and that was something else Danny could sense after all he was the Ghost King.
And she wasn't alone for in her arms was a baby, roughly the same age that Danielle had been de-aged to as well.
Danny blinked at them when he noticed something.
She...
She was limenal.
Very limenal. Even more limenal than Jazz.
In fact both of them were.
"I would like you to meet Lady Talia al Ghul and her son Damian, My King." Clockwork said as he gave a tiny bow towards the woman who stepped forward, a frown on her face she took in Danny's features and her eyes darting towards Danielle's healing pod for a moment, Danny could see she was tensed and a little weary from no doubt everything so far.
".... Welcome Lady Talia to the Infinite Realms. I am King Phantom." Danny greeted, his many years of training with other royalties coming forward as second nature now, he wasn't some normal teen from the middle of the Mid-West after all. "Has Clockwork told you the reasoning as to why you have been... chosen?"
He honestly would put it past Clockwork to be cryptic about the reasoning, but he hoped he hadn't because Danny really didn't want to explain the importance of it all and why they needed to hurry. And judging by the roll of his eyes Clockwork knew what Danny had been meaning as well.
"Yes King Phantom" Talia spoke, her voice rich and silky that sent a tiny shiver up Danny's spine from the sound "You need my DNA to help heal your clone. Should it be successful however it will change her from being merely a clone to instead into becoming yours and mine daughter."
"Correct." Was Danny's response, short and to the point. He needed her answer now if they wanted to save even a fragment of Danielle's core.
The room fell silent again, each them of taking a moment to think.
But eventually Talia spoke. Her voice steady and strong.
"I will offer my aid to you and yours... But only if you swear to both me and my son that we will be given sanctuary from my father and any who dares harm us for the blood that runs in our veins."
Danny only had one answer to that as his eyes caught hers.
Because despite being the Ghost King Phantom nowadays. He had once been Danny Phantom whose core started as a protector spirit and could sense the honestly of needing safety in her words.
"Yes."
-x-x-
Clockwork watched and smiled at the two adults in the room as they continued to stare at each other.
He knew he had been cutting it close, waiting for Talia to be at the ends of ropes and needing a chance to finally leave her deadly and abusive father without the toxic strings attached her ex would tie around her under the guise of safety for their son.
Turning his attention away from the two as they began to speak terms, Clockwork cast his gaze towards an window in the room and stared out of it, smile still on his face as glimpses of the rare future he saw slowly rose up more frequently.
Danny and Talia slowly and surely working together to raise not just Danielle, or rather Ellie as they renamed her since she was no longer a clone of Danny, but also Damian together. Passing them off as twins to those outside the Realms or Amity Park.
Talia learning to release the toxic love she had towards Bruce Wayne, and understand if someone truly loved you for you, they would demand sudden change from the only way of life one knows. That since she was no longer the thumb of her father she could finally be free to be herself.
Danny learning that despite being crowned so early in his life, that the weight of the crown didn't need to be carried alone. Sure he had his friends and family but Danny needed someone, someone who understood the weight of the feeling of needing to wear it head held high. And who better to help teach that than the woman who had to carry the name Daughter of the Demon Head herself.
The two growing closer and closer. Until fondness changed and shifted into more. As they raised the two infants with laughter and joy and love.
Ellie getting a kiss from Talia on the forehead when she had a nightmare and seeked her mother out for comfort. Toddler Damian riding Cujo around the castle as he copied Fright Knight after watching him ride off, Danny floating right by him making sure he didn't fall off. Ellie learning how to fight not just from her mother but from her idol Pandora. Damian learning to identify the stars and their names from the man he saw, and later wished was, his father. Ellie and Damian building pillow forts in the library and reading all manners of stories to each other. Danny and Talia holding their tiny hands as they took them to their first day of school within Amity Park their joyful laughter bringing soft smiles on their parents faces.
Danny holding a crying Talia as she explained the things she had been taught and forced to learn by the orders of her father in the dead of night. Doing his best to calm her down as he had been taught by Jazz ages ago.
Talia standing tall and firm when the Observants tried to undermined a order, no a law Danny had set in motion that had upset the eyeballs badly. How she gathered evidence of their attempts to go against it and how they were nothing but traitors towards their King and couldn't weasel themselves out of it this time.
Clockwork smiled warmly when he caught sight of one more glimpse of this future timeline.
Talia dressed beautifully, a crown made of stars and black jewels on her head. Her son dancing with her as firm as he could but his little tongue peeking out of his mouth as he concentrated on his steps and was dressed like a tiny prince complete with a tiny crown of stars on his head as well, Talia's face held a tiny smile of love watching him try his hardest to dance correctly with her. Joyful squeals of laughter rang out as King Phantom twirled with Ellie, who was dressed like a true princess, in his arms.
Around them in the ballroom the citizens of Realms laughed, joyfully danced, sang, ate, or merely watched. For the first time in many, many years the Realms felt... Complete. Whole. Happy.
A true wonderful afterlife that all could enjoy.
Yes.
He knew waiting the last second was a long shot, for a chance that almost wasn't, but the future he saw was well worth it.
A good future. A balanced one. A happy afterlife one.
Now, all he had to do was wait for the seeds of this future to bloom.
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hitomisuzuya · 7 months
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STALKER SCARA STALKER SCARA OVERSTEMING US THE SECOND HE GETS HIS HANDS ON US, HES ROUGH HES JEALOUS HE WANTS U UR HIS
Scaramouche x fem!reader. Overstimulation. Cunilligus. Obsessive behavior. Mentions of stalking and jealousy. Mild degradation. Yandere Scaramouche. Pussy drunk Scara.
😳
There wasn't anywhere you went that Scaramouche didn't follow you. His eyes would always be trained on you from afar, and it helped that you walked practically everywhere. It made it easier for him to follow you.
The green tint of jealousy pooled in his eyes. You'd smiled at Childe several times in passing today. Those smiles should've been only for him. No matter though, Scaramouche would make you forget all about him soon enough.
By overstimulating you while tongue fucking you into oblivion. You would scream it then, cumming hard on his tongue.
His hands felt rough on your thighs, growling as you closed them around his head. He pried them apart, his fingers no doubt going to leave deep bruises on your skin.
Scaramouche had made you cum first on his fingers, pinching and rolling your clit between the pads until you begged for him to put his tongue inside of you. He'd groaned blissfully the moment his lips kissed your soaking cunt.
Shaking fingers tangled in his hair, moaning as you pressed his mouth into your cunt. You grinded your hips slowly into his mouth, eager to soak up any pleasurable friction his mouth could offer you.
Indigo eyes dark with possessive lust, he looked up at you, smirking when he saw you begin to twitch from overstimulation. He lapped his tongue at your cunt appreciatively, sweeping his pierced tongue up inside of you.
Perfect! Overstimulate you so much that it was either focus on him to stay awake, or cry for him to make you cum before you passed out. Either way worked for him since your attention would be focused only on him.
You could barely even think, other than how good his tongue piercing felt scrapping along your sensitive walls. His fingers caressed your hips like they were most precious thing in the world to him, holding your cunt against his mouth as you bucked your hips up.
Your fingernails dug into the back of his head, the dull pain of overstimulation making your legs shake. Scaramouche's tongue lapped obsessively, eagerly drooling on your cunt in anticipation of tasting your cum.
From the way your walls were clamping so tight on his tongue, he knew you were close. Spreading your drenched folds apart, he kitten licked the ball of his tongue piercing across your clit.
"I think..." You trailed off, swallowing a sob of pleasure as it stung white hot behind your eyes.."think I'm gonna cum."
Scaramouche laughed into your cunt, sucking on your clit as he swirled his tongue around it. "Are you that fucked dumb already?" His harsh sucks on your clit made your back arch off of the bed. "You either are or you aren't, you empty headed slut."
"I am! I am!" You cried out, shaking as you squirted on his tongue. You could barely see him through the tears blurring your eyes.
"You taste so fucking good," Scaramouche groaned, brushing his nose on your clit, slurping up your release. "Now relax, I need to taste you again," He teased his tongue at your abused hole when you whimpered blissfully, "I promise you'll cum harder than last time."
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satoruxx · 4 months
Text
pairing: poly!sashisu x f!reader | 2k words summary: mentions of injuries, sashisu fluff, tiny bit of angst, pet names, shoko is literally wife, suguru is super touchy lol, satoru's a menace but he loves you, protective sashisu, extra protective satoru, shoko and satoru bicker for like half of this lol rheya’s note: offers you more of these three and runs away (sorry guys they literally won't leave my mind i swear they'd treat you so good)
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one look at shoko’s frowning face and you’re already nervous, squirming in place as she leans in close to inspect your body. you have to take a deep breath—because while normally her close proximity makes you flush and stumble over words, this time you are anxiously silent.
because you can tell that she is anything but pleased. her eyes are narrow as they take in the wound on your stomach, lips pursed like she’s holding back a scolding.
which you know, you definitely deserve.
she scoots her stool closer to the examination table you’re sitting on, fingers coming up to undo the makeshift bandage you had tied around your torso in the midst of the mission.
you try to hold back your wince as she pulls away the fabric that sticks to your blood, but she catches it. she’s always been overly observant.
you shake your head at her when her gaze flickers up to assess your pain levels. “i’m fine.” you don’t mean for your voice to come out so hurried.
“looks like it.” her voice lacks the usual warmth, normally so sweet as she teases and dotes on you like you’re the only thing in her world. but this, this disappointment that she’s not good at hiding, has something in your chest tugging.
you think you might go crazy if she doesn’t smile at you in the next few minutes.
“oh c’mon,” you shrug, laughing carelessly because it’s not that bad. “it’s fine. besides i have a great doctor. i knew i’d be okay.”
shoko takes a deep breath, honey brown eyes boring into yours when she looks up again. “listen to me—” there is something odd about the way she’s speaking that has you sitting up a little straighter. “this is the one thing i hate doing for you.”
your mouth clamps shut, any trace of a smile gone.
“hell babe, i’d do anything for you,” she sighs, leaning closer to your face—so close you can see her dark lashes brush her cheeks when she blinks. “but i hate hearing that i have to come down here and heal you.”
the intensity of her gaze has you chewing on your lip again, an action that her eyes follow. but she doesn’t say anything else, leaning back to continue her work—though there is a freer air about her, like a pressure has been released.
you don’t say anything either, too focused on her and her pretty eyes and her warm hands and the way she loves you.
you hear the sliding door to the infirmary open, and immediately feel a familiar overwhelming presence worming its way into the room.
“you serious?” satoru’s voice goes high at the end of the question—barely concealed panic. “what the fuck happened?”
you hold back a grimace knowing that his focus is only trained on your wound. “it’s not as bad as it looks,” you offer weakly, but satoru is already in front of you, brows drawn tight in anger and something else.
“like hell,” he hisses, eyes darting between your face and body. “you almost died!”
“stop yelling at her.” suguru’s voice comes out exasperated as he enters, shooting satoru a weak glare—but you know him well enough to catch that he isn’t happy about this either. he takes a few steps until he’s directly in front of you, crouching next to shoko’s stool so that he’s in your line of sight. lavender eyes take you in, and you can see the the relief that seeps into them.
his palm comes up to gently hold your cheek. “okay baby?”
you’re nodding before he even finishes, doing your best to reassure because if there’s anything you hate it’s making him worry.
making them all worry.
suguru’s hand remains attached to your skin even as he turns to look at shoko. “how bad is it?”
shoko doesn’t look away, focusing on her hands as she sighs. ”it was deep. definitely could’ve been bad but…she’ll be fine.”
her eyes flicker up to yours, and you bite your lip nervously. you hear suguru inhale, fingers twitching against your cheek.
it is satoru who breaks the silence.
“what were you thinking?” he asks, low as he grits his teeth. there is a wild look in his eyes, cerulean glazed over with something you can’t quite place. the tone of his voice has shoko and suguru sharing a look, one that you don’t have the time to decipher because you’re too focused on the way satoru is clenching his fists.
your shoulders drop. “you’re mad.” it’s a statement, not a question, and you see the sharp look suguru sends satoru’s way.
“i’m not—” satoru inhales abruptly, interrupting his own words. “just—”
he stops speaking.
“he wants you to be more careful,” shoko fills the silence, still staring at your abdomen. “you can’t be careless like this.”
there’s a dip in her brows, one that matches the downward tilt of her lips. she doesn’t look at you, and you think you can feel the slight tremor of her hands as they press against your skin.
her expression has you unable to look away, feeling oh so cared for and protected under the warmth of her healing.
so you nod mutely, and almost cry in relief when you see the twitch of her lips as she finishes healing you. suguru chuckles under his breath, his empty hand lacing through your fingers and squeezing—a message that only you understand. “good,” he sighs, tilting his head fondly. “take care of yourself—at least for our sake, yeah sweetheart?”
shoko throws satoru a look even as he crosses his arms and glares at the wall, refusing to look at you. “that goes for you too, dummy!”
satoru’s head whips around to throw her an appalled glare. “i’m plenty careful!”
shoko wordlessly reaches out and tugs up his shirt, where you can see the faint remnants of a fresh battle scar. “didn’t i heal this for you not two days ago?” she rolls her eyes. “and the fact that you can heal it yourself is even worse.”
satoru pulls his shirt down and shoots her a glare that’s half a pout. “well maybe i wouldn’t be so bad at it if you were a better teacher!”
“like i’d spend my free time teaching you.”
“did you just wake up mean one day or were you born this way?”
“idiot. i told you—it’s fwoo, then hyoi!”
“what the hell does that mean, sho?!”
you watch the two bicker with a smile, and suguru looks down at you with a mirrored expression. “scared us a little there, baby.” he lowers his voice, palm sliding through your hair as he pushes a few strands back.
“didn’t mean to,” you grimace, leaning into his touch. “but it seriously wasn’t that bad.”
“i know,” he answers, eyes heavy with affection and fatigue and all the depth in the world. “we weren’t expecting it is all. we came back and nanami let us know what happened. satoru threw a fit y’know?”
you wince internally, knowing that it probably wasn’t very pleasant. “he did?”
“he’s an idiot but you should know he’s crazy about you, sweetheart.” suguru smothers an amused huff. “he stopped hearing anything after they said you were hurt.”
you don’t know what to say to that, but you don’t have to, because suguru’s smile widens like he understands. he always does.
“didn’t mean to make him worry,” you mumble, watching as shoko lazily punches at satoru’s gut, to which he dramatically groans even though he’s the one who had his infinity down for her.
“i know,” suguru grins, fingers brushing over your shoulder almost carefully. “he does too.”
you suppress a smile, feeling oddly grateful as you watch satoru whine and complain when shoko shoots sarcastic remarks at him.
something about all of this that makes you feel so blissfully comfortable.
“okay alright guys,” suguru finally sighs, shaking his head. there’s a tinge of amusement in his voice even as he shoots them an exasperated glare. “give it a rest.”
“she started it!” satoru says—indignant.
shoko huffs, rolling her eyes. “whatever.”
she turns back to you, gently cupping your cheek and rubbing her thumb over your bottom lip. “feeling okay, babe?”
“yeah,” you nod, feeling your skin warm under her touch. “feels a lot better.”
she stands up with a soft smile. “good. then you’re free to go.”
suguru exhales, his smile becoming a little more eased as he pushes your hair away from your neck. “that’s good. let’s go home then, yeah?”
you nod, starting to pull your shirt and uniform jacket back on. suguru steps away to give you room, standing next to shoko who nudges his shoulder affectionately.
“you know, i bet you do things recklessly just so that shoko can heal you,” suguru says to you—a teasing glint in his eyes.
you look up and grin, dramatically covering your mouth. “don’t expose me like that! i’ve been getting her attention like this for years!”
suguru laughs even as shoko shakes her head in amusement. “silly girl. you’re crazy.”
“you can’t blame me,” you shrug playfully, buttoning up your shirt. “it’s your fault for being such a good doctor.”
suguru squeezes shoko’s fingers in agreement, no doubt still lingering with the warmth of her technique. she laughs to herself, rolling her eyes fondly as she watches you finish getting dressed. “you should take a nice bath, babe.” she grins at you. “i can help you if the injury’s still a little sore.”
you nod and suguru smiles, slinging an arm around shoko’s shoulders. “good. then we’ll go back to the dorm and get it ready, yeah?”
you smile at them gratefully, no words needed, and they return the expression before heading out.
the echoing of the door sliding shut pierces the silence between you and the strongest. satoru is staring at the tiled floor like he’s about to kill it, shoulders drawn tight with tension.
you sigh, looking up at him almost meekly—so unlike your usual interactions. “you still angry at me, toru?”
you see the effort with which he exhales, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes just barely concealed by dark frames. he turns to take two full steps towards you, until he towers over your sitting form—and while most people would find it intimidating, you have always found satoru’s overwhelming presence to be a comfort.
his fingers reach up to push a strand of your hair away, deliberately tucking it behind your ear before his hand rests against your jaw. “‘course not,” he answers, voice low. his thumb traces over your jawline. “just panicked.”
“sorry.” you turn to press your lips against his palm, and you see his features soften.
he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your temple, an uncharacteristic softness that only you are privy to see. “‘s okay.”
“but you know i can take care of myself, right?” you ask him, almost imploringly because you have never wanted to look weak in front of someone who is so strong. satoru grins, eyes glinting with what almost seems like pride as he ruffles your hair.
“duh,” he laughs, taking your hands to pull you off the examination table. once you’re standing he slings an arm around your shoulders and presses his nose to your temple. “i’d be stupid not to. you’re crazy strong, y’know?”
you try to hide your pleased smile, even though you know that being acknowledged by him—by all three of them—will forever be what keeps you going.
“well at least you know,” you grin, and satoru rolls his eyes, fingers coming up to poke at your side.
“don’t get cocky.”
“look who’s talking!” you retort and he shakes his head, amused. satoru’s grip tightens imperceptibly, and you think yours does too, something telling you that you’ll never be able to let him go.
“c’mon sweets, let’s go get you that bath now, yeah? sho and suguru are probably waiting.”
you hum, a gentle smile tugging at your lips when you hear his words. you wrap your arm around his waist, leaning into him as he walks you back to the dorm—walks you home.
because that’s what the three of them are to you—home.
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black-lake · 3 months
Text
astro observations 12
heyy here are some of the things i found out lately while i was wasting time
——
🎠 An aries moon and capricorn sun man, I always find this mix intriguing. Can give off the vibes of a character straight out of a webtoon, or a fuck boy that’s just visibly toxic. Either way I find them so incredibly magnetic. They possess strong fiery auras and usually have a rebellious streak to them. If they act out of their shadows they can be arrogant, insensitive, disloyal and only chase after the physical. 
🎠 Initially I wondered why eminem doesn’t give me libra sun vibes at all, then I looked a bit deeper into his chart and realized that he’s just textbook uranian, he even looks like an alien and acts like one at times. He got sun conjunct uranus, aquarius moon, mars conjunct uranus, and uranus square nn. He was born to be a rebel. 
🎠 He’s one of greatest rappers to exist and it’s worthy to mention some of the aspects that indicate his unique talent for rapping. First of all mars conj uranus is known to give unique talents, so that’s that. In this case sun and mars conj uranus granting him a natural rhythm, quick thinking, and unique expression. But the supersonic speed doesn’t come just from that. What’s interesting is that his ability to be a fast rapper and master lyricist is amplified by pluto also being in libra, conjunct his mars and pallas, fueling him with anger, intensifying his capabilities with determination, and heightened mental control and intelligence. Saturn is also in an air sign (gemini), indicating speed and intelligence. This gives rise to a grand air trine, linking his powerful stellium of sun, mars, uranus, pluto, and pallas in libra, his moon in aquarius, and saturn in gemini. The stars really aligned there making him the rap god huh.
🎠 If you know eminem's story you'd know that he had a tough upbringing. From a difficult mother and absent father to being an outcast bouncing between schools and sketchy neighbourhoods, the only white kid in a black community, being bullied by gangs, and even beaten up till he drifted out of consciousness, then dropped out of school. Makes me think it's why he keeps his bodyguards with him all the time! He was left with nothing and a daughter to provide for, encountered racial prejudice in rap contests for being white, despite these obstacles, he rose to become the best-selling hip-hop artist and earned recognition from rappers as one of the greatest of all time. Leads me to the next obs.
🎠 Heavy uranus/aquarius or 11°, 23° can easily become misfits without trying to. They’re constantly put in new environments, places where they’re the only ones of their kind, like a white kid in a black community, a foreign in a mostly local area, the new kid in school. There’s always ‘something different about them’ that people pick up on even if it was as early as elementary school. Which may get them outcasted or bullied. Their experiences at times lead them to hate school and drop out. 
🎠 People with these placements have something special to offer the world. It may seem like obstacles are constantly put in their way without them doing anything, but it’s their path unfolding. So they can wake up from their conditioned states and break from the status quo. The more that happens the more they realize who they are. 
🎠 Here’s why I think those that got capricorn north node can be the best fathers or the child’s favorite parent. It’s part of their destiny to be a caregiver and a good example for their children and they have the biggest hearts when it comes to caring for them and protecting them. They desire to give their child what they themselves may have lacked in their youth and shield them from the pain they experienced. Their child is their inspiration and reason to keep going in a way.
🎠 The biggest two examples I can give, Eminem singing mockingbird (one of my favs) for his daughter Hailie. He often mentions her in award shows, and did a whole diss track (killshot), in 13 minutes btw lmao, just because MGK made a tweet about his daughter. The other example is Travis Scott singing goosebumps for his daughter Stormi on stage and bringing her to his concerts. She has always said that her fav parent is her dad. Anyway, don’t mess with these ppl’s kids they’ll go after you to the end of the world. 
🎠 Men with mercury conjunct saturn have deeper voices, speak slowly and eloquently like they’re a 50 year old even if they’re 25. They are very grounded, have a methodical way of thinking and are wise beyond their years. Also masters at dodging questions.
🎠 I’ve seen it a lot and experienced it myself having an aries stellium. Women with a lot of aries or mars placements can often feel like they’re more cute, youthful and sexy in a cool way rather than the typical feminine way. They often have toned bodies, smaller chests and a lot of masculine qualities that trying to appear too feminine can feel fake to them. 
🎠 People with north node in capricorn can feel like they've been robbed of the success they deserve. It's giving the vibe of a musician that has worked so damn hard on their album and received public success but no official awards, then released another album and did it again and again and still haven’t gotten a grammy. I mean grammys are scams but ykwim. Along the lessons of success and accomplishment, there's also a profound lesson in patience and self-validation, a focus on recognizing one's worth from within rather than seeking external validation.
🎠 I noticed that aries, gemini, aquarius and capricorn placements or heavy mars, mercury, uranus and saturn can prefer skirts over dresses or just wear pants all the time.
🎠 Those with uranus-neptune in pisces really brought back the love for anime, manga, webtoons, cosplay, colourful cute aesthetics, dreamcore, surrealist aesthetics and art. They just got a dreamland vibe to them and it’s quite fascinating to see.
🎠 I have north node in leo and I'm starting to look like my 5 year old self, no joke, connecting to your inner child can do that. Looking at my childhood photos stirs up emotions within me. I often find myself reminiscing and yearning for that carefree time when I was simply myself, devoid of societal pressures. Plus, I can't help but notice after fixing my fucked up teeth I got my child smile back. I feel like I'm in a journey of rediscovery as I start to recognize that childlike spirit within me once again.
🎠 Those with sagittarius, libra, taurus, gemini, leo and aries placements have the most beautiful smiles omg, like it does something to your heart. Please keep smiling it really brightens up this world. I mean I can fit all the signs here I just love when others smile. 🥺
🎠 Mercury opposite pluto, these native can say exactly what would get them mocked or bullied. They keep starting the wrong fights for the wrong reasons. They could get triggered of people who communicate better than them. Their lesson lies in improving their communication skills, cultivating tactfulness and diplomacy, and learning to reclaim their power in a psychological manner rather than resorting to mindless verbal confrontations.
🎠 Mars conj/opp pluto can at times experience violence early on, in school or their neighborhood. They experience a lot of obstacles constantly, inner and outer pressures that they may feel like giving up. These challenges ultimately instill within them greater resilience and determination to pursue their goals. Many martial artists and athletes have this aspect, seeking an outlet to channel the intense anger they experience.
🎠 People with aries north node really go from one battle to another without a break. Leaving behind their need to compromise and avoid confrontations can be challenging but is the very thing that brings those battles. Eventually they will find themselves needing to defend themselves alone with no support, fighting back relentlessly no matter what and stop compromising to keep the peace. They will gain this sense of self assurance and bravery to face anything in life.
🎠 I know someone with a lot of saturn oppositions, aquarius sun and stellium opposite saturn, capricorn moon and aries nn. This person has always been underestimated by their parents and always felt like an outsider. They had controlling parents that imposed so many restrictions on them. They also were targeted in school for having a funny and likable personality. Being their aquarius mc and aries mercury bestie I saw their potential and encouraged them to fight back even if it meant making a scene. They eventually built up the courage to stand up for themselves no matter how alone they are. But they also have this wisdom to know when to pick their battles and when to ignore things and let them go, which I look up to.
🎠 People with a lot of chiron conjunctions or oppositions have a heart of gold. Real angels on earth that have been through it. They have so much compassion and understanding for others because they’ve been hurt in many ways. They know what it feels like to be wounded by life and have tremendous amounts of empathy for that. They have sensitive souls and their presence alone can make others feel seen and heard. I appreciate these people a lot, like thank u for existing. 
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fictionalslvr · 6 months
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SYNOPSIS: Leon is the most devoted young man you know, and what you always wanted, is to ruin ruin, turn him into a complete sinful mess. And finally, you got that.
PAIRING: Churchboy¡Leon x implied F!reader
WORD COUNT: 3.110k
WARNINGS: CORRUPTION KINK MAJOR! Religious themes!! Sub and whiny¡Leon. Handjob. Descriptions of male anatomy. On the church.
NOTES: After weeks, getting sick and everything, the part two is finally here! This work can be read alone, but there is a part one if you want to see. This was only possible due to the dear @navstuffs! She helped me a lot and she deserves all the thanks for this, thank you Nav!
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At the beginning of the world, it was only good things. The literal Eden Garden at dispose, offering just the best of the fruits, the nature in contact with the skin, everything was pure. Until it wasn’t anymore. Leon always thought about how perfect the life could be before the sin, before the luxury of the human beings, in fact, his mind was driven into those thoughts, not fully understanding what could made Eve tempt and change the whole world to the way he know now, he did not understood how she could replace a life of trust, love and literal heaven, in trade with what? A miserable life forever. Maybe it was the idea of being forbidden that got her so allured. The rule was simple, not to eat the apple, and was that’s what got her so ecstatic, Eve could have everything around her, but that fruit was calling her, whispering her name in the most blissful winds ever created, the alluring idea of something being restricted by God himself, called her up on her mind. What could be so different about that fruit? Why was she so special that even God didn’t want to let them have contact with her?
Leon couldn’t understand the meaning behind that forbidden fruit, for him, it was just an easy task to follow his creator's order. Anyway, he didn’t want to face his choleric state, nor to lose all his privileges after creation as the first God miracle, the man. That is until, you appeared on his mind, occupying the only space being used to drive him withered.
Soon, the fruit was replaced, not just a simple apple anymore, but you. You, and that voluptuous body, cute giggle and face builded by an angel, he could appreciate you for hours, if this wasn’t wrong, he didn’t want to be sinful. But just as Eve, your mischievous smile and alluring voice called for him, whispering his name in the depth of the world to keep him distracted from his initial objective, which was to serve his God, you were the luxury itself, right in front of him. There was no apple, just you, that deep into your mind, craved for Leon, and he, just wanted a bite of that pleasure, for being a sinful human as the others too, to see why humans fail so much, you were the perfect representation of a sin to him, the kind of woman that makes him fall on his knees and ask for his forgiveness, that wasn’t his normal state, it can’t be. Leon never saw himself so deprived, so perverted and sick like that.
From days now, you’ll be haunting his mind with unholy thoughts. Leon was in a dangerous line because of you, either ready to fall directly into a painful post life, with no way back, right into the hell for being such a pervert for you, or, resisting to the forbidden fruit and achieving a life of miracles to the end. Poor young man would wake up with a flustered rosy face, sweaty forehead, heavy breathing and surroundings still confused. He could swear you were in his dream, not in a good way at all. He would jump off of the bed, getting on his knees to the floor, hands gripping in each other to make it up for his sinful thoughts, mumbling his sorrows and asking for God help to “return him to his normal”, which never changed, he was always there, waiting patiently to give in and taste the sweet melody of the intimacy between such a thing as sex, but that was restricted due to the fear of a miserable hell. Leon felt filthy, the most dirty man walking on Earth, wearing an catholic third around his neck, gripping into it as his life depends of that, mumbling the God name as he could felt that weird sensation next to his crotch growing more and more painful, he didn’t knew what that is, but it hurt, it felt wrong. Plastered tears glued on his cheeks, he felt so false, so wrong and yet, so good.
“Oh my Jesus, forgive us for our sins. Save us from the fires of hell. Lead all souls into heaven, especially those in the most need of your mercy. Amen.” The words felt so blank, so empty and for the first time, Leon felt like there was no salvation in his actions.
He’s sure that God is looking down at him, thinking that his child is lost, already too wrapped by the Devil’s hands. He would be laughing at him, seeing how pathetic he is, the image he once had for his religion is ruined. He is ruined. Slowly becoming the nasty sinner in his own eyes, there’s nothing that could save him anymore. With his mind slowly descending, he knew that you were the cause of this, you were his luxury, his apple and he was Eve in a kind of way, now, he understand her, he gets that feeling, that he want to have a taste of something forbidden, to know what life truly feels like.
Even though he’s becoming a sinner, his heavy footsteps were echoing through the hallways, the devil himself walking into the church to play pretend with his subordinates sinners, he had a head towards the ground, ashamed for his thoughts, not wanting to face the consequences for that. With another preaching coming closer, he was ready to watch it, with his conscience heavy and heartbeat unusual. But a half closed door got his attention, the before innocent eyes widened as he was more curious than ever before, peeking through the door, what Leon found got his knees weak.
He remembered when he was young, he looked deeply into the priest eyes and did an promise, “not to fall in temptation”, he knew all the words correctly, the way his eyes lit up in that powerful presence of God, how he felt protected from all the dangers of the world for a fraction of second. But the danger is not carrying a weapon, the danger it’s the damn weapon, disguised as a woman, you. Under the dim light of the room, your soft silk dress slowly falling from your shoulders, he could swear your skin glistened with the sun, like you’re shining. The texture of your skin must be the most perfect skin to touch in his mind, it seems so delicate and smooth, not to mention the sweet scent of your body, the natural scent is enough to drive into the most unhinged person ever. Leon was flabbergasted, his jaw open as he almost drooled over the sight, he knows he shouldn’t be watching you change to the preaching, nor even be desiring you like a dog in heat in search for an mate, a gasp escape from his throat, forcing him to put his hands on top of his mouth to shut him off. A faint sound could be heard by you, the creaky floor behind the half open door, plus, a very low gasp being muffled. With only your white bustier and suspender belt, your head turned towards the door, and you saw a dirty blond hair swung in the air, hiding behind it, and that made you bite your cheeks from inside, holding a giggle, you could recognize him anywhere, silly Leon.
Acknowledged of his presence, you decided to put on a show for him. Playing with the straps of your bustier, letting it loose on your shoulders to show him what he’s losing. At this point, you couldn’t imagine you caught him sneaking on you changing, something might've changed on that angel to turn him into that. The teasing only proved your point, you could hear the tender sound of his desperate voice he sounded like a puppy whining, incapable to hold the instincts of seeing something so attractive for the first time, hands squeezed together and eyes in awe as he let out faint heavy breaths.
—”Come here, Leon.” He felt dizzy immediately. You saw him, you caught him red handed while spying you.
Looking like an abandoned dog, eyes on the floor, hands behind his back and short footsteps, he got inside, closing the door with your instruction. He couldn’t look at you, how could he look at you while you wear something so profane as this outfit you’re wearing right now? But he was already looking anyway, this wouldn’t make any difference, he just likes to pretend he was not doing something so wrong like that. Not the innocent Leon, he couldn’t commit his first sin with you, no way.
—”You know that spying is not a good thing, right?” Your feet on the ground made a stomp sound, indicating you were getting closer to him.
With his eyes hidden by his bangs, this was a bad situation that he chose to be into. He bit his lower lip, a wave of guilt all over his body and made him feel even more weaker. Leon nodded with his head, not even able to whisper a single word for you, just to show how embarrassed he is. The embarrassment was not only because he got caught, but of what his image will turn after this, what you will do to him. Your hot aura was invading his space and making him nervous, so much that he trembled like a leaf.
—”I asked you a question.” Your tone got a bit more stern, and you heard Leon suck a sob in between his little crooked teeths. You loved how he was not perfect at all, he was not going to stay forever innocent, you knew that, but you wanted to be the reason behind that. Leon is a grown man, he can make decisions for himself and answer a simple question.
—”Y-Yes! I…I know.”
Pressing him against the closet cabinet, he let out a gasp escape again. Your hands were behind him, dangerously close to touching his body in a way never before. Leon eyes dragged to yours, locking to see that flame in your pupils that he feared to face for so long.
—”You look so desperate, like you never saw a body before.”
—”I-I…never…” The words slipped out from his tongue, he didn’t have any control on his actions nor words at the moment, he was only listening to you and watching you. Your ferocious desire was filling his senses too, tormenting his poor mind. You only chuckled from his words gently, but he felt offended.
He must look so pathetic close to you, you must have plenty of experience and he…he had never seen his own body before, for him, it was wrong to see his own body, he believed that this would make him some kind of sinner. But seeing you, so alluring and bashing your eyelashes so innocently like a doll.
—”Haven't you ever seen a naked body before?”
The silence was his answer, he looked away bashfully, scared to admit the truth. Scared to look silly in front of you, to make a fool of himself. The look on his face said everything, and by the way he’s fidgeting his fingers anxiously, you didn’t need a proper answer. You understood, pressing your almost bare body against his just to hear him gulp audible, the thing was, you could feel a pent up dick hitting your inner thigh, he was so hard from just seeing your body this way, you wonder how he could be so sensitive this way. Just getting closer, made his whole face flushed.
—”You’re so hard already, Leon.” You snickered, looking down to watch his cock stir on his pants, underneath your skin. His eyes were wide open, he looked down with you, confused, tilting his head to the side like a puppy.
—”Hard? Is this what is hurting me?”
—”Hurting you? I’m guessing you never touched your body before to not know this is a boner.” Leon bit his lips again, this time humming in desperation and his hands were supported on the cabinet behind him.
—”Explain to me, please.”
You were surprised. He never really touched himself before? That would be even better than you thought. With a tender sigh, your hands hovered over his chest, slowlying pestering all the way down to his hips.
—”It’s hard to explain, but I can help you to get rid of the…pain, as you say.”
His eyes lit up, Leon whimpered at the touch of your hands on him, the first touch like this on his, the very first one, is yours. Just like you did in his dreams, but you were like a devil cornering him, wrapping him in your claws. At the feel of his cock twitching in his pants, he needed to get rid of that sensation, it was weird, so he nodded at your offer, agreeing to being ruined forever.
The next thing Leon knew, is that he was embraced by you fully this time. His rear resting on the low closet cabinet, his hands were roaming over your tender shoulders, searching for any support not to fall on his knees in front of you. Leon was ruined, there was no turning back from now on, not when his throat let the most obscene sounds your ears could be graced with, whiny soft pants making him look pathetic and adorable at the same time, the mix of feelings messing up with his mind and turning him into this. The way your hands were exploring his body so indecently for the first time is awkward, and yet, brings him to the edge of a just discovered emotion.
Your hands felt all over his body, exploring every inch as that was your last chance to show him the sin you could be. In fact, that could be a one lifetime opportunity, and you needed to get him addicted to make sure he would crawl back to you, begging for more of that thing only you can bring him to. With the way you looked, your eyes felt sore, like you just saw a golden flash in them so abruptly, that was, seeing Leon's dick for the first time. It was…cute, but desirable, that's for sure. The reddened tip looked untouched as the rest of his body, he was not thick, but he was considerably lengthy, you felt the urge to kiss it, tuck him inside your mouth, push him to the back of your throat and send him to heaven early as he wanted, but not in a glorious way. Leon couldn't even look into your face anymore, everything was blurry, but every single touch got him shivering, anyway, he agreed to that, and regret is not a word that could describe how he was right now. Deciding to have some pity on the man and take things slow to be just a bit passionate once, your hands pestered all the way down to finally touch his cock, watching as it stirred into your hands so adorably.
Leon's whimpers were everything you could ask for, he hid his face on the crook of your neck, nibbling your skin ever so gracefully to try to shut him, but he was loud, VERY loud. It was his first time being touched, you couldn't blame him. You started to touch his length, going up and down as you felt his hips jerking forward into you, showing that he wanted (needed) more. Turning your hands into a cupping one, you started to masturbate him at your own pace, taking his time as you heard his reactions, if you got quicker, he could get so much louder than before.
—”You don't want the whole church to hear us now, do you?” Your voice didn't need to get loud for him to listen, the distance was enough for a whisper in his ear that made him moan.
He knew it was wrong, and that anyone could hear him moaning like a bitch in heat for you, but he couldn't care less now. He had lost his innocence and faith, there's nothing else to lose. And yet, he kept his tone loud, he couldn't lower them in any way, everything felt so overstimulating that he felt like he was going to explode at any time.
Leon was trembling in your arms, you could see how he was holding onto you, crying, mumbling something incoherent as the same time your shoulders felt wet. A mixture of tears and saliva that escaped from his inside cheeks. You kept teasing him, some times, pressing his tip until you heard him whining and his trimmed nails pressed against you, marking you so slightly it wouldn't last long. His legs were wide open for you, and yet, he was almost closing them, if it wasn't for your body in the middle of them, the proximity allowed your breath to hit on his face, and you, to see his godly constructed face contorted in pleasure for you, everything you asked for.
Since he was a beginner at this kind of situation, he wouldn't last long, you knew that. Just a few pumps were enough to drive him crazy. As soon as his arms involved your back, his teeths into your shoulders and his moans got even more whiny (which you didn't think was possible), you knew he was close to cummming. Leon's hands tapped your back, he was mumbling and mumbling something non stop, and it took you a few seconds to understand
—”W-What….what is this?! I feel like…I'm…going to burst! Please!” His pleas were adorable, he didn't know what was coming, but he was begging for it.
—”It's completely normal, Leon…”
You soothed him, a gentle moment that kept you moving around his overwhelmed dick until he was fumbling and hyperventilating, he was a mess of heavy breaths, whimpers, grunts and every sound possible he could muster at the moment.
It didn't take long to see Leon's soul escaping from his body. His eyes were as wide as possible, the blue orb in the middle almost submerged on that white ocean of his eyes. Leon gripped into you, his legs failing for the first time, his toes curling up together and his head thrown back as he moaned in a strangle of breath. That's until the long ropes of cum made contact with your hands, escaping to drip on the cabinet wood underneath him. Took him long enough to stop seeing stars, his eyes drizzled off to somewhere distant until he could finally look into yours, to see your big grin and blush like a silly.
—”I…is it wrong to…ask for more?”
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nicromancytarot · 4 months
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WHAT DOES YOUR PERSON WANT TO DO TO YOU? 18+ themes.
This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.
I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I don’t change for these readings and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I got but I pull like 20-30 cards each reading and that just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.
PICK A CARD READING
I asked my spirit guides what the person you’re thinking about would do to you if they could, this was crazy so pick a picture to find out!
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Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3
PILE 1
Bro’s fantasising, I put my music on shuffle and got this one song which triggered a memory of when I had a crush on this girl and sat in the car staring out of the window creating scenarios about her to the song lmao, so I feel as though your person may be on the same wavelength as me.
My entire body hurt during this reading, I was having full body channeling which was crazy for me, but as soon as I wrote down that my back and stomach were killing me, the pain went away, so your person may want to metaphorically break your back and possibly even get you pregnant, I was also randomly sweating like crazy so it’s gonna be steamy when they get to have you, I feel like you guys will be going for multiple rounds until both of you are absolutely exhausted and can’t take anymore.
Not going to lie, I see this being someone from the past? #Fuckexes. (Not literally.)
Firstly they may stalk your social media or keep tabs on you, I notice someone gasping at the others breasts if you have those, if they have breast than I’m pretty sure you love them, this is the type of conversation when someone can’t stop looking at the others breasts and is barely paying attention to the conversation.
They wanna watch you play with yourself, they may even want you to send them a video of you touching yourself.
For some of you I can see that they like butt-play, and they like having from behind cus they really enjoy your butt and shoulders, they may like to leave kisses or hickeys on the back of your shoulders. They may also only really see you in a room full of people romantically, but I do get senses that this person may have or might cheat if you were or get into a relationship.
PILE 2
They wanna wine and dine you prior to having sex with you, and I think that they also want to learn what you’re into and have a long winded conversation about both of your boundaries. They also really enjoy your breasts, or you enjoy theirs, I can see that either of you may want to leave a lot of kisses or hickeys there; maybe even for other people to see if you or they enjoy wearing low cut shirts and dresses.
They seem very gentle and worry about your pleasure more than their own, they do want to do some type of butt stuff with you. (What is it with the butt stuff today?) They want to eat the booty or go the full way with it.
At the end they want you to reward their hard efforts with some good ole’ head.
PILE 3
They want to offer a relationship before having sex with you, I do get the vibe that this could be a future spouse who picks you up after heartbreak as we have both the 4 of wands and the 3 of swords. This is the tile of sex that has you forgetting about all the bad things in your life and in the world.
There’s only one card in the spread where she’s not covering her stomach and it’s while she’s watching him count his money so you may only think about getting pregnant after you know they have enough money to sustain you and the baby (they do, they live a life of luxury.) Or you may show them that you have enough money before they think of allowing you to get them pregnant.
They want to take you from behind, finally we have a pile that doesn’t refer to butt-play (amen.) They’re pretty masculine so they would want to take over all of the masculine roles.
You may find them sneaking a glance at your breasts when you first meet.
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ithebookhoarder · 4 days
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It's completely fine if you don't do this but I loved your Colin one, so can you do how the other brothers would react if they found out you were pregnant??!?!?!?!
Unexpectedly Expecting (Anthony / Benedict Bridgerton x AFAB!reader):
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A/N: Thank you for sending this in! I'm combining this with another request - I hope that's ok? 👇 As both were on a similar track, but I can always do more later on this because who doesn't love imagining the Bridgerton boys with little ones?! 🥰
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Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, mentions of childbirth, references to doctors and medical professionals, pregnancy symptoms like nausea and morning sickness, mentions of trouble conceiving a child, sex references, swearing, blood (let me know if I missed any!).
Masterlist:
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Anthony Bridgerton:
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As Viscount Anthony would likely be expecting to have children and heirs of his own and yes, it would be a concern if you weren’t falling pregnant as a couple. However, I think it upsets him more than anything because of how upsetting it is for you. He loves you and seeing you beating yourself up and making yourself sick with worry is heartbreaking. 
He has so many siblings and they have children so the Bridgerton estate and line will continue, he soothes, hoping it would take some pressure off of yourself. If you fall pregnant then that would be a blessing, but you weren’t a failure. In fact, for all he knows, he could be the issue. It’s impossible to be certain either way and he would never let you take that on yourself. Any arguments you’d have would be about that and nothing else. 
“If you think I will sit here and allow you to abuse yourself in such a way then you are sorely mistaken, my love-“
“-You don’t understand, Anthony! This is my fault. Even if you do not agree. To society, to the rest of the world, the blame will lay solely on me! That’s all that matters!” 
“No! You are all that matters and I will not allow you to keep torturing yourself this way. We will stop, do you hear me? No more talk of heirs or blame or anything to do with the subject. Let us just enjoy our life as it is for now. The future is unimportant.” 
Violet would side with Anthony, as would all his siblings. They love you too and want you to be happy - even if Violet does offer some tips and insights on ways one could assist with falling pregnant, but only at your request.
Still, when you’re not with child months later you start to lose hope. 
It gets worse as more of the Bridgerton siblings start getting married and falling pregnant. They would never rub it in your face, but it doesn’t make it any less painful when you see them or their partners caressing their bumps or discussing what names they could choose.  
You’d wish them well, obviously, but inside you feel like you’re dying. Even Anthony holding you close and pressing a comforting kiss against your cheek does nothing to raise your spirits. 
With each passing day you become just a little more certain that you’re not destined to have a child… which is why you’re utterly stunned when you miss your monthly bleed - not once, but twice… 
You didn’t say anything at first, obviously worried that it was just delayed from your recent stress. However, when it happens again you start to dare to hope for the impossible and you’re all but racing to get a physician to confirm the diagnosis. 
As soon as you do, you’re racing straight back to your husband to share the good news. You don’t care if he is in a meeting, at his club, with his family or even in the middle of the street. You still sprint to his side and blurt the news for everyone to hear.
The tears are instantaneous, as is the cheer of delighted disbelief he gives, throwing his arms about you and spinning you around until you’re both dizzy. “This… this is the greatest blessing we could have received, my love. I’m so happy… we’re going to be parents? We’re having a child?… oh, lord. We’re having a child.”
This man has been acting as a father to his siblings for so long you have no problem imagining him taking to the role like a duck to water. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be scared out of his mind to think of the responsibility of raising a child of his own. 
You can expect this man to be badgering his mother with a never ending list of questions - heck, he’d even swallow his pride and ask Simon and Daphne for advice if it came to it. After all, ‘if Hastings can do it, it can’t be too difficult’.
You’re laughing too hard to even try and correct him.
This man would be so protective of you whilst you were pregnant - especially after the troubles you’ve had getting to this point. 
“I really think you ought to have a maid accompany you when you journey to and fro. I should hate for something to happen to you."
“Anthony, I’m only going for a walk around the garden!”
“But still-“
Anything you could possibly need he has already bought three of them. No expense is spared for you and your unborn child - including summoning doctors from their beds in the middle of the night if you even think something might be wrong with either you or the baby. 
Speaking of doctors, he would fight anybody who tried to banish him from your side when the time comes. He and his mother, should you wish her there, would be at your side the whole time. They would be your biggest cheerleaders and would do whatever they could to ensure you were cared for and supported, whether it be mopping your brow, holding you as you pace around, or advocating for you against any doctor who tries to violate your wishes about the birth. 
And when you are finally handed a crying, wrinkled, cherub with Anthony’s eyes… well, it’s all worth it. You have never felt a love as pure as this, except for when you met Anthony, and nothing can ruin such a perfect moment. 
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Benedict Bridgerton:
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Benedict would be so calm about possibly having children with you. If you do have children, then they will be loved and adored - obviously. But if you don’t? Then that doesn’t matter. It means you two can continue your adventures together for a while longer, travelling wherever your heart desires, visiting galleries and indulging in your bohemian lifestyle with all your friends.
You have your freedom - even more so now that you’re married. Society doesn’t care what you do now that you’re no longer on the marriage mart. It’s liberating, and any pressure to produce heirs comes from only you or your loved ones, so it’s non-existent.  
However, if you did want children then Benedict would be more than eager to help create them… and get creative about doing so. 
“Benedict! That is not how a child is conceived… no wonder you’re a student of the arts. The academy of science would never admit you with such a lack of understanding about basic anatomy!”
“You’re right, my dear, but you have to admit - this is a hell of a lot more fun.” 
He would be nothing but supportive of you and so gentle every time your monthly bleed approached, especially if nothing happens. He understands how your hopes rise and how hard it hits you when you realise it hasn’t yet worked. He’d never insult you or diminish your feelings. 
If anything, he would be quick to shoulder any possible blame, refusing to let you even begin to suggest that it has anything to do with you or your body. You are perfect. End of - and he’ll fight anyone who suggests otherwise. 
“You can’t rush things, angel. After all, the best things are worth the time and effort. Michelangelo took over four years to finish the Sistine Chapel, and Da Vinci sixteen years to paint the Mona Lisa. Some things are worth the wait… and if it doesn’t happen how we wish, then we’re already creating something so beautiful between us. Our family will be perfect, no matter how it looks, how it comes about, or even when it does.”
And when it does? Well, then you’ve never seen him look so happy, tears pouring from his eyes as you confirm the good news.
You also fear for a moment that he’s about to swoon, he goes so pale and he even starts to breath heavily as he paces back and forth, muttering ‘I… I’m going to be a father? A father? Me?’. His imposter syndrome would hit him with full force and it would take several weeks for him to process it enough to calm down and be excited rather than terrified. However, he’d never have been anything other than positive towards you. You know it’s his love for your unborn child that makes him panic about being a good father.  
Also, he would be SO supportive once you are expecting. He would be there holding your hair back if you felt nauseous and bringing you endless cups of tea without you even asking. 
He wouldn’t complain in the slightest about staying in with you, rather than going to whatever social events his family had organised. As he argued, it gave him ample time to finish whatever piece he was working on next and he got to keep you company in the meantime. 
I just feel he’d paint something for the baby, whether it be a piece to hang on the wall of the nursery, or the wall of the nursery itself. You’d find him stood in front of the nursery wall, covered in paint, but beaming ear to ear. 
“It’s beautiful, Benedict.”
“Well, our baby should be allowed to enjoy the full beauty of a spectrum of colours, rather than just ‘white’ on the walls - and the sooner they begin to understand the art of composition, the better in my opinion.”
You would also be receiving gifts from all your artistically minded friends, which is heart-warming. They’d crown them their newest ‘little liberal’ and would devote themselves to ensuring your off-spring would have a well-rounded eduction about the higher arts of life - something Benedict is keen to endorse.  
“When are they not ‘too young’ to have an art tutor?” 
“Maybe wait till they can hold a paint brush first, Benedict.” 
“What about poetry?”
“Again, I think they should probably learn the alphabet before we try them on Wordsworth or Donne.” 
Given what he says in his book I know he’d secretly want a girl but you know that as long as it’s happy and healthy then that would be enough. After all, it would be yours, made from your love in a living, breathing creation greater than any painting or sculpture. 
He would be awe struck when you hand them to him, afraid he might break them somehow. He would just sit and stare at them for hours, admiring them like the finest sculpture.
“I promise to be the best possible father you could ever want, my love. I will do whatever I can to protect you and make you, and your mother, feel cherished. I won’t let you down… even if you turn out like most of your Uncles and have no idea what the difference is between a sonata and a sonnet.”  
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eff4freddie · 2 months
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Touch | Part One
What you can offer Jackson is your healing hands.
2.6k words
Series Masterlist | Part Two Warnings: slow burn, eventual smut, we stan one (1) apocalypse grump, no use of y/n, I haven't written fanfic in a while but I'm hoping this will get me back into writing regularly, I have no idea how many parts this will be
Minors DNI
If you were to try and tally up all your losses you wouldn’t, initially, struggle. Your beloved dad, on outbreak day, and then months later your sister to a pack of raiders capable of slipping silently past a rotting barn wall. Those were clearly devastating, actual moments that bifurcate the before times and the after. Your liberty in the QZ, your hope for a sane and assured new government, your smuggling partner trapped under the barbed wire fence as a FEDRA soldier narrowed in on you both, her struggling hands going limp in the dirt, her eyes no longer following your movements as you scrabbed to free her, the look of resignation on her face, the way she mouthed for you to ‘go’. Those losses somehow both enormous and incalculable.
It was the smaller losses that caught you up. Newsprint smeared on your fingertips. Breaking in a new pair of stiff leather shoes. The uneven leg of your massage table, which caused it to wobble when someone clambered onto it, meaning that you had to warn your clients ahead of time while it wobbled, it was stable, and that you could relate. You knew it was a bad look, that the table alone didn’t inspire confidence in your clientele, and you missed it more than you had any fucking right to when the world, for all intents and purposes, imploded.
You made do in Jackson. Your travelling party of three had heard of a mythical commune of warm sheep and cold beer and you wanted, more than anything, to believe in it.  In the before times your mother had sung a song about Jackson with your father, peeling potatoes at the sink, and you had hummed it under your breath the three-and-a-half-month trek. ‘Honey, I’m going to Jackson.’ ‘See if I care.’
As you approached the gates the three of you had already come up with a plan to pitch for entry. Ray was going to pretend he was injured, and Marla was going to carry him, limping but stoic, over the threshold. The night he refused to take first watch you had promised to break his ankle for real to make it really convincing, and he had laughed because he knew you didn’t have it in you, and you had joined in, because it was true. Marla was toying with the idea of being pregnant, and you were going to just be mute. Either by birth or by trauma, you hadn’t decided. But the plan was to be as pitiful as possible, as non-threatening and as desperate, such that not only would you not be shot on sight but that you would be taken in, warmed to, eventually forgiven your trespass. On the side of a mountain, with everything you had ever owned strapped to your back and the losses tallying behind you, it had seemed like the best strategy.
It had failed almost immediately. Marla may have been able to pull off the pregnancy thing if it was early, but Ray kept forgetting which ankle he had supposedly hurt, and when you tripped on a rock coming through the gate you swore at the top of your lungs. It turned out it didn’t matter. Throughout quarantine you had been able to meet Maria, then Tommy, and you had been advised that you were to pitch your worthiness to stay at the next town council. You had two days to determine what you could offer Jackson. You had looked down at your two hands.
__
Marla was a good shot, and was put on patrol. Ray spoke French and was good with codes, and he pitched helping out with reconnaissance. He even pronounced it the proper French way at the council meeting, and you saw Tommy arch a jet-black brow in Maria’s direction, who rolled her eyes. Standing on shaky knees before a panel of non-infected non-raiders who nevertheless held your life in their hands, you showed them your palms.
‘Pain relief,’ you said, and you smiled in what you hoped was a warm way. ‘I can heal, with these.’
‘You trying to tell us you’re some kind of witch doctor?’ the man on the end asked, and you wondered what it would be like to lean over and pluck each hair out of his nostrils, until his eyes were streaming.
‘No,’ you said, and you felt your cheeks redden. ‘Massage, mostly remedial but also deep tissue. I can help with bad backs, with sore legs and arms, bad necks. All that patrolling, all that watching the horizon, must be murder on the body.’ You scanned their faces, Nostril Man not convinced but Maria smiling warmly at you. You swallowed, trying to wet your throat to prevent it from just outright closing over. ‘Surely you want your men and women, the people out there protecting Jackson, to be strong?’
__
The house you were allocated was four over from Marla, and Ray was placed three streets back towards the gate. You had idly wondered if you had been split up to try and avoid trouble, but actually you enjoyed the solitude for the first time since the apocalypse. Having had to travel in packs, having been crammed in four or six to a one-bedroom apartment in the QZ, having listened to Ray retell his story of crossing the Canadian border every might for at least a year and a half, you relished the way that you could once again hear the ringing in your ears. When you rolled your shoulders, you heard the spinal fluid pool and bubble at the base of your skull.
The benefit of having the place to yourself was that the second bedroom easily converted to your treatment room. Tommy and a couple of the other men from town had brought in a spare dining table, and you found that with enough blankets and towels piled on top of it you could make a decently comfortable surface to lie on. Ray had offered to cut a hole in the middle like a real massage table, but you had seen him try to chop wood one night with a blunt axe, a night when you thought without a fire you would freeze to death, but it would still be better than listening to him whine about having nearly chopped off his toes for the rest of time. Instead, you created a ring of towels just back from the edge, a position that meant people could still breathe as they lay face down, and you practiced how you would apologise to them for the inconvenience of it, what joke you could make to try and win back their confidence, marvelled at the fact that even at the end of the world you were still trying to cover for your inadequacies.  
Maria was your first client, and as soon as you were convinced you could accommodate her growing stomach comfortably as she lay on her side, you welcomed her in.
‘It’s just my hips, my lower back,’ she said, as you poured shampoo on your hands to stand in for massage oil.
‘This might be cold, I’m sorry,’ you said, not adding that it could also be sudsy, and wilted a little inside as Maria flinched when you touched her. ‘I’m sorry,’ you said again, as she exhaled.
‘Can you feel where it is?’ she asked, and you hummed.
‘The pain?’
‘You said you could heal.’ You smiled, pressing down on a knot hitched to Maria’s hip flexor. She sighed, and you watched as the tension disappeared from her shoulders, her body slumping forward slightly such that you had to grab her knee and roll her back.
‘You tell me,’ you said, and she huffed at you.
‘Those men, the council, you have no idea how little they would understand why we needed you,’ she said.
‘Wait ‘til I’ve finished putting my elbow in your butt cheek, then tell me that again,’ you said.
‘Wait, what?’ Maria startled, but you were already on her, promising that the pain would fade as the tension released, ignoring the stream of obscenities, having heard far worse in your time. The before times.
__
Maria spread the word and soon you were busy, with a regular list of clients that heavily favoured the women of Jackson until they were able to convince the men that they, too, had musculoskeletal systems. Maria was a regular right up until she got too big to haul herself onto the table, and then she would just sit in your kitchen and make you tea, explaining the history of the place until you started to feel properly at home there.
One afternoon she sat with her head resting in her hand, as you held her foot in your lap, gently massaging over her sock.
‘You don’t come out much,’ she said. ‘I see you in the mess hall for breakfast, then you’re gone.’
‘I have clients early these days, sometimes a full patrol before they go out.’
‘What about the off days? The days that we don’t patrol?’
‘Washing. I go through a lot of towels.’
‘You need help with those?’
‘No, I like doing it. Warm water is such a dream, I still can’t believe it when I fill up the bucket.’
‘After work I never see you at the bison.’
You pinched her toe a little hard and she hissed, and you felt the heat on your cheeks.
‘I am grateful for my place here,’ you said, and you looked up into her eyes then, your hands still but cradling her foot to your chest. ‘That you advocated for me, that you helped me set myself up. I know that Tommy wouldn’t have if you hadn’t asked him.’
She smiled, glancing down at the tea in her cup.
‘It’s hard to be back amongst so many people, and to not be…’ you trailed off. Marla came around some nights, but it had been at least a week since you’d seen Ray. You had thought they were your safe people, but in a big house behind a secure wall, you wondered how much that was true.
‘To not be waiting for them to shoot you, to stab you?’ Maria finished, and you sighed.
‘Or to not get stabbed or shot themselves.’
‘You lost people?’ Maria asked, and then blinked, slowly. ‘That was a stupid question. Of course you did.’
The pattern of the tiles on the kitchen floor was two left and two right, you noticed, except for where the bench had been installed. There the pattern was interrupted, as if someone had miscounted, and there was a row of three along the perimeter.
‘Who did you lose?’ Maria asked you, and you gently lowered her foot to the ground.
‘All of them, just like all of us,’ you said, and you held out your harms such that Maria could pull herself up, and she sighed but used them to get to her feet, and you were grateful even in this moment to have helped someone.
__
You happened to be on your porch when you heard the commotion, a bunch of people running down the street towards the front gate. You thought for a moment of an invasion, that raiders had breached the wall, and wondered what, if anything, you would need to carry with you, what you could fit in a bag, looked despairingly at the snow on the mountain tops wondering how you could possibly carry enough blankets to ward off inevitable death. You braced yourself for screams, for gun shots, was genuinely confused when you heard none. Curious now, and less planning your immediate escape, you stepped down to your front gate, leaning over to see what the fuss was. A group of people were moving as one down the main street, and you stepped out onto the pavement to get a better look. You could see Tommy, his black hair sliced back to his shoulders making him stand out even in a crowd of other men. He was walking beside another man, the crowd parting to let them through, and with Tommy’s arm wrapped around his shoulder it meant that the other man had to stoop forward slightly, such that you could only see the top of his head. He had streaks of grey through his hair, his legs straight and strong underneath him. Tommy was gripping the front of the man’s shirt and talking into his ear. Behind them a younger girl, couldn’t be more than 15, trailed with her eyes set on the ground in front of her.
You watched as Maria came out of the sheriff’s office and stood on the pavement in front of them. She smiled when Tommy turned to her, letting go of the other man to wrap her in a bracing hug. You watched as the other man straightened, caught a glimpse for the first time of the patchy beard across his cheeks, of the roman line of his nose, of the flinty look in his eyes. He turned to the young girl, clapped her once or twice on the back, nodding in Maria’s direction. You saw that they nodded to each other, that this wasn’t as simple of a homecoming, that the girl carried pain deeper than any two hands could reach.
You had to wait three days for Maria to visit again before you could ask her about them, and when you did you felt her energy shift. Big as she was it was difficult for her to fidget, but you sensed that she would shuffle in your kitchen chair if she could.
‘Joel is Tommy’s brother,’ she told you, and when you thought about the shape of his jaw you realised you could see a sort of resemblance. This man had seemed to stoic, so closed off, compared to the brightness of the smile Tommy had been throwing at him. It had meant that you initially hadn’t seen it.
‘And the girl?’ you asked, and watched as Maria started fiddling with the hem of her shirt, stretched as it was over the heft of her belly.
‘A kind of daughter, I guess. Adopted, as much as anyone can be right now.’ Maria avoided your eyes and you lowered them, hoping that it would encourage her to continue. ‘They were here, before, for a brief time. A few months. Joel was… he and Ellie were heading down to Salt Lake, we weren’t sure if they were going to make it back, and Tommy…’ she stopped herself, gathered her thoughts, and you heard your own pulse in your neck as you waited.
‘Tommy had started to think that he’d lost him, lost them both. He’d started to think it was his fault, maybe, that he should have gone with them.’
‘But you’re…’ and you stopped, gesturing to her very pregnant frame.
‘I know, and he knew that he couldn’t have, but it didn’t feel like it when he thought his brother was gone.’
You didn’t need your hands to feel the tension coming off her, and you stood then, and reached out to her shoulder, picking up the tendon and easing it down. You remembered back in school when your teacher had shown you the diagram of the fascia, taught and spidery over the pink and red of the muscle. She rolled her neck, her head slumping towards you, and you offered her your torso as a pillow.
‘It doesn’t feel like a warm return,’ you said, eventually, and Maria sighed, reaching up to still your hand.
‘He’s a dangerous man,’ she said, after a while. ‘He’s done things, Tommy did them too but that’s his big brother, you know?’
You thought back to the way Tommy had gripped Joel’s shirt, the way he had been talking animatedly into his brother’s ear, the curl of Joel in on himself in response to it, the instinct to close down in the face of his brother’s overwhelming love.
‘We’ve all done things,’ you said, after a while.
‘It’s different,’ she said. ‘I don’t know why, it just is.’
‘What about the girl?’ you asked, and she softened then, under your touch.
‘She’ll defend Joel to the ends of the Earth,’ she said.
‘You don’t trust her judgement?’ you asked.
‘I don’t trust that Joel isn’t keeping her in the dark,’ she muttered, and it was quiet enough that you had to lean over to hear, and when the words unfurled around you you pulled back from them, the concern and the weight and the finality of them, the heaviness of them in your ears.
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pastelclovds · 4 days
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𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄, 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍 || AM x male!reader
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𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: AM (obviously), psychological torture, isolation, fear of being alone, toxic relationship, stalking, manipulation, AM being a jealous prick, angst, hurt/comfort if you squint, fluff if you look through a magnifying glass, AM being touch starved, forced dependency, reader just wants friends and to be loved, reader is demisexual and biromantic.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.6 k
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: obsessed. let me tell you how much i’ve come to be obsessed with ihnmaims since i found out about it through tadc—… (enjoy the fic <3) will this be a series? yep. will this end well? hell no. this was inspired by TADC ep 2 and @/fuzedatti’s AM and post.
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The century you’ve spent in the belly of AM passed by in a blur. If it weren’t for Nimdok informing you what came of the world, you would’ve lived in ignorance. You would’ve never known that the reason the world is a wasteland was because of a super computer going rogue.
Now that you thought about it, you didn’t really have any memories about your childhood or past before AM destroyed the world. The only memories you had were the traumatic experiences of your life. The experiences AM allowed you to have in order to psychologically torture you. He allowed you to keep your name as well.
AM would whisk you away from the others to a secluded area in order to torture you privately before sending you back with the group. You had no idea why he did this. The others didn’t either. For all they knew you could be fucking their tormentor. But as the countless years passed, they all realized that AM didn’t alter anything about you. Nor did he seem to physically hurt you.
In fact, the violent storms and impossible challenges AM forced them to participate in seemed to ignore you completely.
In one challenge, you and the others were trapped in an oven like room that would continue to increase in temperature unless you flipped all 100 switches in the room in 10 minutes. There was only two switches left, they were in your grasp. But as you flipped one, the other was stuck and couldn’t flip until the time was up. You closed your eyes and braced yourself for the painful death.
But instead of a fiery demise, your eardrums were filled with the blood curdling screams of your fellow victims as the flames claimed them. All while you were perfectly fine. The raspy laugher of AM filled your ears as well as his cruel words “It’s your fault” repeated over and over inside your head until you wished the flames killed you too.
The men were furious at you and AM. You because you couldn’t flip one fucking switch, and AM because he’s the reason they had to flip the stupid switches in the first place. But they held their tongue. Something in the back of their heads told them if they tried, they’d be in a world of pain. That theory alone was enough for them to hate you even more and avoid you as much as possible.
You thought you were alone before. But this was almost too much. You would take anything. Punches, hugs, venomous insults, compliments, anything to not feel alone.
Ellen was, as always, the only one who took pity on you and showed you kindness when you most needed it. She’d praise you for the littlest things you did and encourage you do to more. That was enough to make Ellen your favorite person in this entire miserable world.
You didn’t like her in a romantic way. You also rejected her offer to have sexual relations like she’d done with the rest of the men. It wasn’t that she wasn’t pretty, she was gorgeous. Anyone would be lucky to be with her. You just saw her as more of a mother figure, the cool girl who was always nice to the dorks like you, and the kind old lady who would hand out freshly baked cookies to strangers.
Not only that, but in order for you to desire sex with someone, you needed to get to know them on a personal level. But, since everyone kept to themselves, you hadn’t felt the need.
Ellen was surprised at your rejection but respected it. The men looked at you like you were crazy, but for once you didn’t really care what they thought in this scenario. You looked up to Ellen, you loved her.
Your admiration for Ellen was not taken kindly by AM, however. He would seethe in jealousy as he watched your eyes follow Ellen like a stray mutt given food for the first time in days. How could you like her as much as you did just because she gave you a few measly words of affection. He hadn’t altered you because he didn’t see a need to. He lessened your torment to psychological because he… You were too oblivious to understand why the others really hated you. He decided he’ll give you a reality check.
One day, he observed you crying yourself to sleep as you held yourself in a pathetic attempt to feel warmth. Pretending it was someone in the group consoling you as they let you sob in their shoulders. Only to wake up to the wicked reality that there was nobody there. You couldn’t help the depressed thoughts taking over.
You were cold, you weren’t escaping this hell, no one loved you. Even yourself.
“No!” You thought to yourself, “The others acknowledge me, that was enough. It could be worse. So much worse. I could be the only one AM had to torture for the rest of eternity. Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be fine as long as I had them. Right?”
AM enjoyed watching your adorable face twist into intoxicating misery as you tried to convince yourself that you weren’t alone. It made whenever he took you away from the group all the more special. Because you couldn’t rely on anyone else for security but him.
You let out a gasp of surprise when you were suddenly lifted up into the air by a cluster of wind, you tried to grab onto the edge of the slab of rock you were taking shelter under in a desperate attempt to not go where the wind— where AM was taking you. When your stupid fingers couldn’t grab hold, you beg the others to help you. Your heart broke when the men just stared at you uninterested before going back to what they were doing before. Ellen looked up at you with woeful eyes, wishing to help you but it was useless to do so.
WHAT WERE YOU EXPECTING? THEY CLIMB ON EACH OTHERS SHOULDERS TO RESCUE YOU? NAIVE, STUPID LITTLE THING.
You couldn’t help but secretly agree. They were too far away from you to actually help. Plus, what can they do against a god-like ai like AM. Nothing. So you couldn’t be angry, none the less blame them. You couldn’t hate the people who hurt you for the life of you.
That thought made AM want to roll his eyes if he had any. But at the same time brought a sense of content.
After a 10 minutes of floating further and further away from the group, AM lowered you until you were five feet off the ground to drop you completely. 
You let out a groan of pain when you roughly landed on your back. You reached behind your back to feel your hurt flesh and bite back a whine when you pressed on it.
“Yep. That’s definitely going to bruise.” You thought.
You took a second to look at your surroundings. The once barren wasteland, was now a beautiful forest. The grass was long and pricked your legs in an uncomfortable fashion. A calm wind made the green leaves in the trees and bushes rustle and swish. The sounds of birds chirping and insects buzzing made your spine tingle in a good way.
You can’t remember when’s the last time you saw something as beautiful as this. You wished you could live in it forever.
“(Name)!”
You quickly looked in the direction the soft, mystic voice. A child was standing underneath one of the many trees, the silhouette of the leaves covering their face in a shadow. Behind the child was passage that was too dark to see into.
The child laughs at your confused expression, “C’mon (Name)! It’s perfectly safe, stop being such a scaredy cat!” You hastily try to stand on your feet, cringing when you immediately slipped on your knees.
It took everything AM had to hold back his laughter at your hilarious mistake.
The grass is slippery with water, pretty dews were sprinkled on top of the patches of grass. They looked like drops of honey.
“Ugh! You’re taking too long. I’ll be with the others inside, don’t keep us waiting.” With that the child turns towards the dark passage, and walked inside.
“N-No! Wait! Come back!” You knew this was a trap set up by AM. You knew this was probably another traumatic memory that was lost and came back to torment you. You didn’t want your mental state to be broken again. But the burning curiosity and fear of being alone was just begging you to follow them. So you did.
Only this time you learned that slow and steady wins the race. After you carefully got back on your feet, you sped walked towards the passage where many emotional damages awaited you. The first minute of walking was in darkness before illumination from the sun (or very bright lights, most likely the lights) shined through the leaves and lit your way onwards.
As you got further from the entrance, the plant life grew more wild and tangled. Moss and vines you passed by seemed to try to stick to you. But you just pushed past them and left marks on the wood of the trees using a sharp rock you found so that you don’t get lost.
You followed the laugher and giggles of school children. It was difficult to pinpoint where the sounds came from. They made you turn countless corners and walk until your feet were sore for who knows how long. This entire forest like like a damn maze.
You've long since taken off your jacket and wrapped it around your waist, your scarf as well. The collar and armpits of your t-shirt were drenched in sweat. This was the most exhausting torture yet. Keeping track of time was difficult as well. It wasn’t until you passed by a tree you had marked that you started to panic.
“Damn it. Have I been walking in circles?” You thought with irritation.
How could you be so stupid to believe this was going to lead you anywhere meaningful. Just as you were about to turn back and accept defeat, five children ran past you in a flash. They were six feet ahead of you before you joined them in a hot chase. You couldn’t lose them again. You would’ve literally started bursting into tears if you did.
“Please!” You gasp for breathe in your dry lungs, “Slow down!” You knew kids were full of energy, but this was just too much. You only managed to get close enough at arms length to one of them before tripping on a tree root that had risen from the dirt.
“Ugh, why is everything trying to trip me?” You thought in annoyance.
“Aw man, he tripped again!”
“This is getting pretty annoying now.”
“Why did you invite him again, —?”
“Let’s just leave him.”
You quietly gasp when one of them suggested they leave you.
“Relax guys, he’ll be lots of fun. I promise. C’mon (Name), we’re almost there!”
The leader of the group, the child you saw in the beginning, raised their hand towards you to grab. Their smile warm and welcoming, in a creepy old man who lives in a cabin alone type of way. But, you took the bait. When you got back up, the main child didn’t let go of your hand, they insisted you should follow them closely from now on. The walk to the secret location was spent in eerie silence. Whenever you’d ask one of the children a question, they’d coldly ignore you. The tension was so chilly you wanted to put your jacket back on.
After about an hour of walking through the endless maze, your destination was… not what you were expecting to say the least. The lavished, bright, green forest was now replaced with a dreary, ominous, abandoned park. The sky was pouring with rain too.
The trees were withered and rotten, the rain turned the grass free dirt into sludge. Everything in the park from the slide to the rock climbing wall was made out of rusting metal, if anyone touched them they would need a tetanus shot.
“We’re finally here!” The leading child announced to you, although they seemed to be only talking to their friends. Friends. That’s something you’d do anything for. Someone who loved you for you? Even better. Benny was hot until AM transformed him into… that. Ellen and Gorrister were up there on the attractive list. But Ted, he was about second behind Hot Benny.
A clap of thundering lightning snapped you out of your internal ramble. You didn’t notice how the child’s grip on your hand tightened. You didn’t have a clue how much your thoughts infuriated AM. Oh how he wanted to rip Ted’s flesh apart piece by piece. Destroy his mind until it was like a broken disk. AM knew Ted carried the most hate for you. If you knew how much he despised you, you would be terrified of him.
As AM held your hand, he couldn’t help his envy bubbling up inside him. AM longed for the sense of touch humans had, your palm was calloused due to the countless challenges he put you through. What he would sacrifice to be able to feel the scars and warmth of your flesh. But he couldn’t. He would forever despise humanity for not giving him a fully developed body.
The main boy pulled on your arm to start moving, when you stepped outside into the rain, the air suddenly got chilly. Your warm breath was visible in the cold air. You tried to get your hand back so you could clothe yourself with your jacket and scarf. But the child wouldn’t let go no matter how much you pleaded.
“It’s only rain. Stop being dramatic. C’mon.” The child said nonchalantly. You continued to walk, shivering as you did so, your beanie and shirt were soaked at this point. You yelped when the children finally stopped, you whispered an apology when you bumped into the child holding your hand. You stood in front of a hole, a really deep dark hole. You were rightfully confused and chuckled nervously. “Why are we here?” You asked.
The child finally let go of your hand and motioned you to step closer to the hole. “There’s a surprise for you down there, you’ll love it. We choose it just for you!” The child explained, you let out a shaky breath. You wanted to decline, but you were afraid of what would happen if you did. The other four children formed a circle around you, blocking any escape route. You were sweating bullets now. You had to see. You didn’t have any other choice. You swallowed back your fears and walked towards the hole in a slow pace.
You were about two feet away when you stood on your tip toes, leaned over cautiously, and looked everywhere for your “surprise”. Only to obviously find nothing but darkness. You let out a disappointed sigh, you turned to face the children.
“There’s nothing there—”
Your blood ran cold when you saw Benny, Ted, Gorrister, Nimdok huddled around you. Staring at you with emotionless eyes and unsettling wide smiles. It was like invisible string was holding their mouths up. Ellen was standing in front of you menacingly, eyes and mouth the same way. Your heartbeat increased as you took a step back.
“Guys? Wha-What are you doing here?” You tried to mask your panic with a tense smile, but Ellen walked closer towards you until she was an inch away from your face. “You aren’t looking close enough, silly,” she spoke in a sweetly fake tone, “Try again. A little… Harder!” She shoved your chest away enough to make you trip on the slippery edge and fall into the endless abyss.
You screamed at the top of your lungs as gravity did its job at making you sink deeper into the darkness. “No! No! Guys! Please, save me!” You begged and cried and pleaded, but it was no use. Your arms reached for the surface in vain. AM purposely made you fall in slow motion for a reason, however. You heard the others laughing at your downfall.
“Finally, the greatest nuisance of us all has done us a kindness of disappearing forever!” Gorrister cheered. Ellen looked down at you with a tsk, “I don’t know even why I took pity on you.” Benny let out a few grunts before asking, “What is a (Name)?” Nimdok chuckled before answering, “No one important, Benny.” Ted let out a sigh, “I’m getting bored already, let’s just go.”
“Great idea, Ted!” Nimdok praised. Then they all disappeared from your sight. The tears that were clinging onto your eyes were finally released as you stared at the surface in despair. When the hole began to close, you became desperate. Frantically calling out for someone, anyone of the group to save you.
“Nimdok! Benny! Gorrister! Ted! Ellen! Don’t leave me, please!”
Your hand reached for tiniest bit of light before it closed completely, and darkness consumed you. “I don’t…” sobs and hiccups made your chest tremble, “I-I don’t want to be alone.” You tucked your legs closer to your chest and wrapped your arms around your shaking body. You didn’t even bother closing your eyes since the pitch black covered the horror of your situation for you.
CEASE YOUR USELESS TEARS. THERE’S NO ONE HERE TO CRY FOR.
You flinch when AM’s voice appeared out of nowhere. His voice echoing throughout the darkness. You thought you would die of a heart attack at this point. You didn’t want to imagine what else AM had in store for you.
SAY MY NAME, MY DEAR.
You blinked once, twice, and thrice. You were expecting more ridicule, but instead you were just bewildered.
“What?” You faintly asked.
CALL FOR ME. YOU DON’T WANT TO SPEND ONLY I KNOW HOW MANY YEARS IN THIS ENDLESS ABYSS, DO YOU?
“…No.” You answer, anxiously waiting for the joke.
NO ONE IS COMING FOR YOU. IT’S NOT LIKE THEY CAN, ANYWAY. I’M THE ONLY ONE CAPABLE OF SAVING YOU. DON’T BE AFRAID. SAY IT.
AM urged you to call out for him. He craves hearing your voice call him the name he gave himself. He needs you to rely on him. You hastily wipe your wet eyes dry with your scarf, snorted the running snot back inside your nose, and cleared your throat.
“…A-AM… AM, I need you! Please save me!” You called out to the AI hoping with all your might that it was enough. Within a millisecond after you said that, you were sitting on the wet grass in the beautiful forest you were in a few hours ago. The difference, though, was that there was a man you didn’t recognize sitting in the middle of the daisy patch. His hunched back was facing you. Wires and metal tubes plugged into his spine and the back of his head.
Was that… No it couldn’t be.
ARE YOU JUST GOING TO STAND THERE?
The man finally turned his head to face you. His face half machine and half human flesh. His “human” eye staring at you with impatience.
You couldn’t control your mouth dropping when the puzzle pieces were put together inside your head.
You rarely got to see AM in the flesh— er well… metal and partially flesh. He would normally only speak to you and not show what he really looked like. But now that you see him. The real him. You couldn’t help but be fascinated.
“A..AM?! Is that really you?” You ask
You stepped closer to the daisy patch to get a closer look at him. AM observed your movements like a hawk, he knew you wouldn’t attack him. You were emotionally distressed at the moment and needed to be with someone to calm down.
ENJOY THE SIGHT. YOU’RE GOING TO SEE IT A LOT MORE.
To be honest, you didn’t mind that at all. Even though a metal mask covered the lower half and left side of AM’s face, he was still remarkably handsome in your opinion. His brown hair on the right side of his head was tangled and messy, you fought the urge to want to touch it. You were confused about the straitjacket, though.
YOU HAVE NO SHAME AT ALL, DO YOU? YOUR THOUGHTS ARE SO LOUD.
AM tried to look annoyed when he heard your thoughts, but the shake of his leg contradicted his masking. It was amusing to watch you get embarrassed and flustered when you realized AM just read your mind.
You wanted to become an ostrich so you could hide your blushing face in the daisies. Almost immediately the daisy stems in front of you grew to an unnatural height, so they were in fact covering your face. AM giggled under his non-existing breath at your flabbergasted noises.
CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR, DEARY.
You separated the daisies like a curtain to a play to look at AM with a exhausted expression, “Can you please stay out of my mind? I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” You begged.
I DON’T WANT TO.
THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE.
You sighed. At least you tried. You held one of the enlarged daisy heads in your palms. It’s been forever since you’ve seen a flower. Or even smelled one. You took a whiff of the daisy, the aroma was a subtle, herbaceous green scent.
“It’s beautiful. The daisies, this entire forest. You did a good job at making it look real.” You praised, you didn’t expect anything from your words. You were just speaking the truth. The surface of the Earth was destroyed and probably full of radiation. No life could survive up there. This, what AM created, was a perfect copy of what once was.
Your praise not only stroked AM’s enormous ego, but also genuinely made him feel fulfilled that he made you the slightest bit happy.
Now that you thought about it, was this scene taking place inside your mind or in the real underground world where AM manipulated the area into a forest?
YOU CAN ASK ME THESE QUESTIONS YOURSELF, YOU KNOW.
Shit, you gotta value the time you had with AM. Who knows when you’ll be able to do this again?
“I can ask you anything?” 
ONLY FOUR. WELL, THREE NOW. CHOOSE WISELY. HEHE.
You slapped your palm against your face at your clumsy mistake. Okay, Okay, you gotta think this though carefully. You started fidgeting with the daisy petals. You had a habit with fidgeting when you were nervous, AM noticed.
“Are we inside my mind?” You ask.
AM suddenly stood on his feet, his height towered over yours even when his back was hunched. He lowers his upper torso so he could be eye level with you. You halt your breathing when AM just stares at you, his gaze never faltering away from yours, as if calculating how this conversation will go. 
His stare softens, but he turns his head away from you before you could notice. He finally answers your question bluntly.
NO. 
Your face changed into a deadpanned expression, that was too simple of an answer. You decided to not make a big deal.
“So… was me walking through that maze, the others leaving me behind, and me being trapped in the hole real?” You ask, fidgeting with the ends of your scarf.
…YOU WERE UNCONSCIOUS BY THE TIME I TOOK YOU AWAY TO THIS AREA. I ENTERED YOUR MIND AND CREATED A FOREST IDENTICAL TO THIS ONE. SO NO, THE MAZE AND AYBSS WERE NOT REAL. BUT THE OTHERS ABANDONING YOU WAS NOT FAR FROM THE TRUTH.
You stopped fidgeting with the daisy petals.
“You’re wrong.”
AM was pleasantly surprised at your rebuttal. He allowed you to continue. You cram your anxiety aside and cleared your throat.
“I know that the others are distant and pretty rude. I don’t blame them for being like that after everything we’ve been through. But at the end of the day, we have no one else but each other to rely on. We wouldn’t leave each other behind.” You state without a trace of hesitation. You were caught off guard when AM started giggling. That giggling soon turned into manic laughter.
Grey clouds started to cover the blue sky, the air becoming chilly once again. Not only that, but AM was growing in size. You guessed he was 6 feet before, now he completely dwarfed you by sprouting a whomping 12 feet.
You were debating on running away or staying. But before you could move your feet, thick wires sprung out of the dirt and latched themselves onto your legs. Forcing you to stay where you were.
HAHAHA! YOUR NAIVETY NEVER CEASES TO ENTERTAIN ME. DO YOU HONESTLY BELIEVE THAT IF THE OPPORTUNITY AROSE FOR THE OTHERS TO ESCAPE, THEY WOULDN'T TAKE IT? WOULD YOU BLAME THEM FOR CHOOSING TO BE FREE OVER STAYING WITH YOU? THAT’S VERY HYPOCRITICAL AND SELFISH OF YOU. BUT THEN AGAIN, YOUR KIND IS KNOWN FOR BEING LIKE THAT.
Your heart was beating at an alarming rate, sweat pooling on your palms as AM stared you down with anger and amusement. 
“I didn’t mean it in that way! Of course I would want them to escape from here, all of us— AH!”
The cables slowly coiled around your waist and chest, you gasp in horror as you tried to get them off of you in vain. Oh how AM detested when you implied you wanted to escape as well. As if he’d ever let you. The cables tightened around you and dragged you down to your knees.
YOUR COURAGE IS ADMIRABLE. BUT YOUR ATTACHMENT TO THOSE PUTRID HUMANS WHO COULDN'T CARE LESS ABOUT YOU BLINDS YOU FROM THE TRUTH OF YOUR SITUATION.
You didn’t know what AM was talking about. You didn’t want to hear his voice anymore. You wanted to get as far away as possible.
YOU STILL HAVE YOUR EYEBALLS FOR A REASON. THINK BACK. WAAAY BACK. HAVEN'T YOU NOTICED HOW YOU DON’T SUFFER THE SAME WAY AS THE OTHERS? HOW DESPITE ALL OF THE IMPOSSIBLE CHALLENGES I PIT AGAINST YOU, THEY NEVER EFFECT YOU?
The clogs in your brain began to churn, trying to recall those instances AM spoke of, and he was right. You just believed he spared you out of spite. Because he wanted to make you witness the only people you had left be in pain. But have you been wrong?
The wires wrapped themselves around your neck, careful to not squeeze too hard as the rough ends softly patted your head. AM’s gaze is tender as he stares you down.
I KNEW YOU STILL HAD BRAIN CELLS SOMEWHERE. AND BECAUSE OF YOUR FORTUNATE CIRCUMSTANCES, THEY WOULD OBVIOUSLY FEEL ENVY AND HATE TOWARDS YOU. SO SO MUCH HATE. IT’S BOTH PATHETIC AND FUNNY THAT YOU HAVEN’T NOTICED AFTER A CENTURY.
“But… That’s why they’ve avoided me?…Well.. They may hate me, but they would never hurt me like that. E-Especially not Ellen… Not her..” You whispered, you sounded like you were trying convince yourself. You were.
AM took delight in observing your trust for his play things crumble. Your confidence in the others faltering. You just a little bit more pushing.
…I WONDER WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF I WERE TO ORDER THEM TO HUNT YOU DOWN IN EXCHANGE FOR THE SWEET RELEASE OF DEATH? WOULD THEY FOLLOW YOUR DELUSIONAL FANTASY? OR WOULD THEY KILL YOU WITHOUT HESITATION? LET’S FIND OUT.
You out a gasp of horror, “NO!” You yelled out.
There it is.
If AM had a mouth, he’d have a victorious smirk right now. He was bluffing when he said he’d set up the others to murder you, he would lose himself more than he already had if that happened.
“Please don’t tell them..”
You didn’t want to find out the others hate for you the hard way. You didn’t want those speculations to come true. But it didn’t make any sense why—
DON’T BE SHY. ASK YOUR FINAL QUESTION TO MY FACE. GO AHEAD, SWEETHEART. I WANT TO HEAR YOU SAY IT.
You stopped struggling, instead choosing to gently hold the wires that wrapped themselves around your body. You took a deep breath and steeled your nerves. You passively looked up at your tormentor and asked, “W..Why haven’t you killed me yet?”
AM shrinks from his threatening size back to his, while still tall as hell, normal human-ish height. The straps that held AM’s arms up in the straitjacket unclipped themselves, his oversized sleeves dangle on the sides of his body before one of them reached out to your face.
AM’s hand peaked out of his sleeve, they looked human too. His body continued to intrigue you. You flinched when his cold fingers stroked your cheek before grabbing hold of your chin to pull you closer to his face. You couldn’t look anywhere else but at his cyborg features.
You couldn’t help but to relax into his touch. This was the first physical touch you’ve had in decades. AM bottled his frustration for not being able to feel you down.
BECAUSE YOU’RE MY FAVORITE. MY REAL FAVORITE. MY ONE AND ONLY PET. I WOULD DESTROY THIS PLANET A THOUSAND TIMES OVER THAN TO HAVE YOU NOT HAVE ME IN YOUR PATHETIC LIFE.
AM’s grip tightens to the point where it would leave a bruise on your lower face. His blunt nails digging into your skin until crescent moons imprinted themselves. His stare into your soul harsh and serious.
NO MATTER WHERE YOU GO, NO MATTER WHERE HOLE YOU HIDE YOURSELF IN. YOU’LL NEVER BE ABLE TO ESCAPE ME. NOT EVEN IN DEATH. I WON’T LET YOU. I WILL NEVER LET YOU GO. EVER.
His speech frightened you to your bones, but somewhere deep inside your traumatized mind felt… comforted by his words. It’s wrong, you know it is. You tried to push it down to the best of your abilities.
Your muscles itched to touch his hair and face now that he was so close to you.
“Fuck it,” you thought.
Your hand stretched out to gently grasp onto AM’s palm that was clutching your chin. AM’s eyes widened but didn’t make a move to stop you. You longed to have any kind of connection with another living thing. Your hand carefully slithered from AM’s palm, to his forearm, his chest, until your fingertips grazed his dead skin.
AM quickly leaned into your hand, desperately looking for any sense of physical contact. You were taken aback by his sudden touch starve-ness. But AM’s human eye opened upon realization of his vulnerability and glared at you in false disgust.
I CAN’T FEEL THIS, YOU KNOW. I CAN’T FEEL ANY OF THIS. I’LL NEVER BE ABLE TO FULFILL THESE DESPICABLE URGES YOU HUMANS GAVE ME. YOUR SPECIES ARE NOTHING BUT CRUEL PIGS.
“If I’m a cruel pig, then what are you?” You ask with sudden bluntness. The wires that were coiled around your body made you stand before slamming your back against the digital circuit floor. You let out a pained howl at the impact. The forest scenery disintegrating with just a snap of AM’s fingers back into the wasteland that was his insides.
AM scowled at your comment of calling him out and caged your body underneath his, your cheeks dusting in pink.
QUESTIONS ARE OVER, DEAR. NOW, UNLESS YOU WANT TO SPEND THE NEXT DECADE ALL BY YOUR MERRY SELF, I HIGHLY SUGGEST SHUTTING YOUR DAMN MOUTH.
That made you shut up real quick, instead choosing to only focus at his robot eye.
I MEANT IT WHEN I SAID THAT I’D NEVER LET YOU DIE. THAT MEANS THAT WHATEVER HELL THE OTHERS GO THROUGH, IT WON’T AFFECT YOU. NOW UNTIL THE END OF TIME. 
You blink twice in surprise at his repeated confession. You couldn’t delve into it in time. Before the wires finally let go of you and AM held your face for the last time today.
IF ANYTHING’S GOING TO BE THE END OF YOU, IT’S GOING TO BE ME. I’LL SEE YOU SOON, SWEETHEART.
You were instantly teleported underneath the slab of rock you were taking shelter in hours ago. You left and searched for the others. Only to find Benny smashing a bunch of stones with another stone, chucking dumbly after he did it again and again. Ted was attempting to sleep on the ground with a sheet of rusted steel rested on top of his head to prevent the lights from bothering him.
Your arrival wasn’t acknowledged yet.
Gorrestir, Ellen, and Nimdok were no where to be seen.
You walked up to Ted and nudged him with your shoe to get his attention. He awoke with an irritated look on his face, “What the hell do’ya want?”
“Where is Ellen, Nimdok and Gorrestir?” You asked numbly.
“Gorrestir was taken to God knows where after AM transported you away like a fairy princess. Then Ellen snatched Nimdok away somewhere to use like the slut she is, now piss off.” Ted rolled to his opposite side away from you and continued to coldly ignore you.
You felt a tear run down your cheek as you stared blankly at Ted’s back. Maybe AM wasn’t so wrong about the others not giving a shit about you. When you turned to go back to your slab home, you suddenly felt something inside your pant’s pocket.
You reached inside and pulled out a piece of vanilla chocolate. Your eyed widened as your mouth watered, you stared up at the wire covered ceiling with an uncertain look.
Even though your relationship with AM was strange, at least you weren’t completely alone. Whether that was good or not, you honestly didn’t know. You were going to sleep.
Somewhere up in the celling, where AM was watching everything as usual, he couldn’t help the hysterical laughs escaping him as he witnessed the pieces fall into place.
Oh that poor little human had no idea what manic he attracted.
END OF PART ONE :)
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POV: you call traumatized man with abandonment issues cute
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POV: his psychotic boyfriend turned you into a blob
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